I hate my allergies.

Currently...
Watching: Primeval. It's no Dr. Who, but I need something British to watch to tide me over the next few weeks.
Reading: The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. Quite literally one of my favorite books of all time. I could go on and on about, but I won't. I'm re-reading it because that's what I do. Re-read books over and over and over.
Listening: Sigur Ros. I could listen to this song every morning when I wake up.

Waiting: For Spring Break. I can't wait to spend a week away from Fort Lauderdale... I need a real vacay soon.
Obsessing: My Shakespeare Insult Mug my Pare gave me. I love my pare.


If there was one thing on this earth that made my skin crawl and eyes water, it would be my stinking allergies. I'm not like everyone else in my family, who constantly have rashes and watery eyes, but in moments when I least expect or want them an attack happens.
Now I know that it mostly happens because I tend to blow things out of proportion in my mind, but I have a complete justification in the fact that I almost died from allergies. I mean if YOU almost died, wouldn't you be inclined to be extremely paranoid? I would rather be safe, then sorry. The end. I think I've written about this story before, so I won't waste my time repeating something that I've either written about, or told to many of you numerous times. It is indeed one of the famous "Pachechi stories". One that will be held in high regard for all time.
Anyway, so my allergies always pop up in moments that you least expect and also when you're generally enjoying yourself. Everytime I go home to Tampa, I have some sort of weird allergic reaction. I think the flora and fauna are much different in central Florida and it tends to overcome my entire being and my body starts to scream in agony through itchy skin and watering eyes. Sometimes I think that this is my body's way of telling me moving was an excellent decision and that my reward is not being allergic to South Florida. Now if I only felt the same.
So anyway, the point is this. The hubby and I were hanging out with some very good friends of his from high school. They have both a dog and a rather ferocious cat. Every time we go to their house, I take zyrtec, wear pants and bring my own sheet to put on the furniture so I can sit without getting cat hair on me. Is that a bit obsessive compulsive? Quite possibly, but I will take any precautions. ANY. So we go there on Saturday around 4:45 pm and I'm doing amazing. Whenever a dog or cat would come in my vicinity I would squeal, yes, but then the animal would go away. Although, there was one time after leaving the bathroom the dog was following me and I proceeded to run around the kitchen island and the dog was in hot pursuit. That was rather funny. Anyway, so it gets to around 11 pm and all of a sudden it hit me. My eyes began to tear and I couldn't even open my left eye. We left promptly and the next morning I was all stuffed up, my muscles ached and I had an awful headache.

Moral of the story? If you have a dog or cat in your house and you want to hang out with me? You're coming to my house.