I get really excited each spring as the weather starts to warm up.
Spring is here! I get really excited each spring as the weather starts to warm up. I pull out my shorts and tank tops and rub my face on them while I coo excited comments over their return to my closet. I buy seeds at the store and imagine myself in the wet dirt growing my own vegetables. I plan picnics and tennis games and long hours luxuriously soaking up the sunshine on my back porch.
Every spring I wonder why I didn't do more of these activities last year. Was I too busy? Was spring not as lovely last year as it is this year? Am I a new, better person this year? Better able to appreciate the joys and blessings of nature?
As I lay in bed, the lights off, the windows closed, and a wet towel across my face it always comes back to me. I'm never that busy, spring is always filled with flowers and baby lambs, and of course I'm not a better person. I don't do those activities in the spring because I'm too busy lying around, scratching my eyes, and going through box after box of Kleenex.
It's peculiar how I always block out any memories of hay fever. Probably because it's so horrible and wretched and miserable that the only way my mind knows how to deal with allergies is to completely erase any remembrance of them from my brain.
I take two different pills, one at night and one during the day. I drip eye drops into my eyes and spray things into my nose, all with minimal results. My eyes still feel like someone poured sand into them, I still sneeze until my nose bleeds, and I wouldn't touch a vegetable garden with a ten foot pole.
Sometimes I even take medication that requires a prescription (or a quick trip over the border into California). But that doesn't seem to help much either, though maybe I'm doing it wrong. According to the looks I get from the pharmacy I think I'm supposed to use my Sudafed containing products to make methamphetamine. Do you think some meth addicts are simply desperate and misguided hay fever sufferers?
As I look out my double paned glass window I can see that the springtime sure does look beautiful. I can see the sunlight, along with my daily vitamin D requirements, slipping away from me. My neighbors do exciting activities like walking their dogs and washing their cars. Even my son goes outside for brief moments when he can tear himself away from his Legos.
What I really need is to move somewhere completely devoid of plant life. Who really needs their silly oxygen creating capacities anyway? A big city, or better yet a moon colony, would be just what I need. If I could stare down at earth from my moon habitat that's probably as close to spring as my hay fever allergies would allow.
But until the president decides to put a few more moon missions back on NASA's agenda I guess I'm stuck here on Earth with the rest of you. If you really must do outdoor activities, try not to rub them in. Beneath my dripping, sneezing, itching exterior I'm a person just like you, a person who would also like to pick up an occasional game of tennis or attempt to grow my own cucumbers.
Zoë Abel is trying to remember this hay fever for the next spring. You can recognize her by tracking down the red-eyed, itching, nose-dripping woman in town, or you can email her at email@example.com.