Pollen Counting on a Sunbeam

I used to get springtime allergies sometimes when I lived in California, but not too often. I get allergies in Texas every time the seasons change, and those last for about a week. But in the two academic years I've spent here in Philadelphia, I've never had to deal with allergies. For some reason, my nose and the air found each other rather agreeable here. I'd always been able to enjoy the springtime and sunny weather outside before.

Lo, the folly of man.

I woke up today, looked outside my window at the 80 degree weather, silently rejoiced, put on summer clothing, hopped down the stairs, burst through the double doors, took in a deep breath of fresh spring air, and promptly sneezed it back out. I sneezed uncontrollably all the way to class, sometimes violently. Passersby, strangers, felt the need to say, "Bless you," with concerned looks on their faces at every calamitous convulsion, every pollinated paroxysm. I sneezed so much and so hard, my throat felt ripped and dry from all the fast air coming out of my lungs, and it even made me start coughing for a bit. I could not stop sniffling; that is, if I did stop, I'd have to deal with a runny face. Not my best look, I assure you.

In the afternoon, I found time to buy some Claritin. It did nothing. The hya!choo-ing kept up, as did my marathon sinuses. They could have run for miles. I realized there was only one solution. I would have to convalesce. Invalidate. Stay inside. Wait it out. The pollen storm.

So much for enjoying the beautiful weather.

Oh, and if you happen to see me sneezing outside, please do not say, "Bless you," because it would be a lie, a mockery - for I am not as such, but verily the opposite - I am the cursed.