I am going back to Santa Cruz. I need to get my fieldwork done, but more importantly, I need to get away from the FREAKIN’ ALLERGENS.
Seriously. Ever since my train went past San Jose, my eyes have watered and my nose has dripped almost constantly. I have gone through all the tissue boxes in the house and am now going through the paper towels and the toilet paper. The phlegm in my throat makes me cough like a carton-a-day smoker. Just for fun, Tim has taken up counting how many consecutive sneezes I go through before I finally come to a stop. I have taken to retreating to my room, where I sit with the window closed and the fan on, still dripping like a Bethany faucet.
Don’t tell me about the latest and greatest allergy meds. I’ve tried them all, and they either don’t work or make me drowsy. I’ve tried over-the-counter stuff, I’ve illegally tried most of the prescription stuff, and I’ve even tried the natural herbal stuff. (Admittedly, bee pollen works, but only for 15 minutes. And since a shower also works for 15 minutes, I’d rather take a shower.) Some years ago, out of desperation, I tried a combination of pseudephedrine hydrochloride and caffeine that induced peripheral-vision hallucinations and made me twitch like I was on Ritalin. I’m not going through that again.
The cold hard facts are that my ancestors are likely from cold, coastal areas, and that by moving to North America they left their natural habitat. The next closest thing to that habitat, for me, is to live at or near the beach. I have to. It’s genetic.
(See how nicely that solution worked out?)