gold_flamingo (gold_flamingo) wrote,
gold_flamingo
gold_flamingo

ode to spring

Ah, the sun-drizzled days of May are here again.  The mountains are dotted with brilliant orange poppies and the clouds are proper cloud-shapes, rather than the frail high wisps ordinarily feathering our pallid desert sky.  It's the time for caterpillars and birds' nests and sandal shopping.  But mostly the time when I begin to ooze from entirely too many bodily orifices and I recall that it isn't that I don't like the outdoors, it's that the outdoors doesn't like me, and is prone to expressing its antipathy through forceful sallies from its devastating though microscopic armies of pollens and spores.  Having bad seasonal allergies, the kind untreatable by any drugs short of steroids, is sort of like simultaneously having a lingering, drippy cold and pink-eye, and yet no valid excuse not to go to work, as histamines are sadly non-contagious.  My friend L helpfully informed me that there's Claritin in the first aid cabinet (which, while generous and well-stocked by normal office standards, seems wholly inadequate for a place of employment with its own table saws), and I laughed.  Claritin hasn't had a noticeable effect on me in over a decade.  L gave me a skeptical look and retreated to her office, leaving me to continue cooling my eyes with a moistened paper towel.  My boss said, "If that's what hiking does to you, I think you should stay indoors from now on."  Spring is the time when I am as close to misanthropic as I normally get.  Other girls break out their sundresses, whilst I receive concerned inquiries from random passersby who've been alarmed by my swollen, reddish gaze.  There are lambs and kittens and new leaves on trees, and I watch it all from behind a screen of immune system malfunction through which is it difficult to feel human, much less frolicsome and blithe.  Sometimes I reflect that my eyes would bother me much less if I were to remove them, but then I think about how much I would hate having to dictate instead of typing (a lot), and subside back into my general malaise.  Eventually the eyes enter one of their milder phases and I consider more positive solutions: would a small dose of narcotics negatively impact my work performance?  Is there a designated office area for applying ice to one's face for extended periods of time?  Is "I suffer chronic pain from having to look at things" a legitimate basis for a worker's comp claim?

I'll let you know what I find out.
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