The pollen is back. Right as I am just getting weather warm enough to mock the Yankees I know, the pollen returns to inform me that I am going to be raped by trees. It’s an odd way to phrase it but pollen is nothing but tree sex and they are forcing it into me against my will so yes, I am being tree raped, gang tree raped, even when I am in the shower, and this will go on for at least another three months, in various degrees of intensity.
The Snot Factory is open for business in a way that defies reason. Why my body would think producing more gallons of mucus a day than a herd of cows produce milk will somehow mitigate the tree rape is well beyond my reckoning. Yet there I am in a meeting with my nose dipping like a fifty-three year old faucet who blew out the last O ring during the Carter Administration. I am just as effective in attacking this malady as Carter was wild killer water rabbits. You know, that is still just one story I would not have told. The UFO story was bad enough, but damn…
But the constant drip isn’t nearly as bad as the fact, for all practical purposes, I look and act like I have the flu. People think I am contagious. People keep telling me to go home from work and I tell them they are blaming the victim here. I haven’t done anything at all wrong yet people want me to go away because I sound like I’m at Death’s Door. The drip in the front isn’t as bad as the drip down the back of my throat which is killing my voice. It runs from something a little higher than squeaky to lower than Darth Vader’s whisper. Both of these mind you, can occur during the same sentence. I sound like a teenager going through puberty again. How nice.
My eyes are likely to tear up every time the wind blows and it looks like I’ve just watched an “Ole Yeller” marathon or listened to Aimee Mann and Adele box sets back to back while drinking cheap wine. It’s tragic, I tell you, it looks like I just attended the funeral of a dozen dogs and lost the winning lottery ticket and my ex-wife’s lawyer found it. I wipe my eyes, wipe my nose, try to breathe and sneeze twice.
The over the counter meds have various degrees of ineffectuality. Most are like taking a pill and tossing it at a freight train. Yes, this little white pill will solve your problems, yes. No, in point of fact it will not solve my problems. It will make me groggy. So instead of being wide awake and snotty I’m half asleep and snotty.
I had a dream last night that I had found an old girlfriend of mine and in most dreams people aren’t changed. They are exactly as you remember them being. But Francis was older, much older and she had her hair cut very short. I haven’t seen this woman since 1980 and I wonder why the meds and the pollen summoned her. I never nap. But last night I wanted just to rest a bit, to lie down on the sofa with the Loki and Lilith and the next thing I knew the movie, which I was not interested in to begin with, was ending. That’s when I had the dream, mind you, and I wonder how Francis would feel about being the product of pollen, meds, and a World War Two movie where there were a lot of Nazis being shot. This was one of those “Star Wars Storm Trooper” movies where the bad guys seem to have terrible aim even with automatic weapons and the good guys never miss a shot. It’s amusing to see how long that sort of thing has lasted in movies.
Two shots of Nyquil later and the bed looked really good. I drifted in and out of sleep and actually slept fairly well considering. Lucas has decided that I do not need blood flowing to my arm and he wants to get really, really, close. I have to elbow him away but it is nice to have that much mass producing heat. Lilith curls up near my feet and she wiggles her way closer and that feels good, too. The mutts seem to know when I am not feeling well. They try to get as close as they can.
It’s good to have massive mutts. I know people with small dogs and it just isn’t the same at all. I like having that feeling when a large dog raises its head in the middle of the night and I know, really know, I’m being protected by someone who loves me. A hundred pound dog is a force to be reckoned with and multiply that by three, or at least two, then the house is secure. I do rest more easily knowing my dogs are at my side. They can’t keep the pollen from getting to me but they make me feel more healthy and more safe. The time before we call start drifting off to sleep is a good time. Everyone gets into their positions and we form ourselves to match the other’s locations and everyone is warmer for it.
I’m awake when the coffee maker begins its ritual. The dogs know it’s time to get up when the coffee starts and Lucas snuffles me. Sam awakens and comes to stare. Lilith yawns and makes her parrot noise and it is time to get out of bed again. The meds did their job and I was able to sleep, more or less. But now it is time to face a winter storm and more pollen. It doesn’t seem right there would be cold weather and tree rape but that’s how life is sometimes. There are still the dogs, no matter the storm.