As I write this, I have pulled several chestal-area muscles. But how, Yellie, you ask. How, when everyone knows you would rather get hit by a car than go to the gym and lift the weights? OHMYGOD DID YOU GET HIT BY A CAR?
Thank you for your concern, but no. I did not get hit by a car.
I have sneezed 73 times this morning. Every time it hurts a little more. These are not little, mild, "I've encountered a bit of dust" sneezes. These are "MUST EXPEL ALL OF THE AIR FROM MY PERSON AS FORCEFULLY AS POSSIBLE" sneezes.
Wait. Make that 76 times.
Because do I sneeze just once? No! I like to call the way I sneeze Baseball Sneezing -- as in, I only sneeze in a series of at least three. Sometimes four or five or seven.
And it's all because it's spring.
I love spring. I love it despite the fact that it makes me sneeze so hard that I hurt myself. I love it even though I have to stop wearing makeup because my eyes are so irritated and runny that I constantly look like I am either a) on the verge of tears or b) actually crying. (Although, I must say that this makes people treat you much more gently than they might normally do, and I don't hate that.) I love spring even though I am CONSTANTLY tired because of these flipping allergies.
It's like an evil bargain I made with Mother Nature. "Please, mum, let winter be over. PLEASE!"
"And what payment will you make in return?"
"Will you be willing to SUFFER?"
"Uh, that seems kind of extreme ..."
"SAY YOU WILL SUFFER AND I WILL END THE WINTER!"
"Okay! Okay! I'll suffer!"
(Seriously, she is one twisted bitch, that one.)
80 times. EIGHTY TIMES KILL ME NOW.
It's going to be worth it though. Because Spring.
It better be worth it!