so it is nearing midnight, and i am in my usual state for this time of the evening.
stuffed up, wheezing, eyes drooling, eyelids peeling, and unable to breathe without my mouth hanging open like an idiot.
it is beautiful to be me, i tell you. i am a fucking beauty queen right now.
twenty days left before i can see the allergist. lord only knows what he's going to do to me, besides make me breathe into a tube and scratch me with many little needles covered in a thousand different potential allergens - that much i'm clear on, and i'm bloody sure i'm not going to enjoy it, either. he will then probably tell me to quit coaching (chalk dust), give away all my babies (fur, shavings, litter dust), and move into a hypoallergenic plastic room for the rest of my life. maybe i'll be allowed to have a goldfish there.
as foolhardy as it may sound to allergists and hypochondriacs everywhere, i will neither be quitting coaching or getting rid of anyone. so i hope he has some back-up ideas once the itch test is finished.
in the meantime, i'm going to go attempt to remove my eyeballs and soak them in some cool water. excuse me.