I always wondered if Paul Simon wrote the song "Allergies" in anticipation of needing some quick cash, later on in life.
"Well. I might be doing all right now, but you never know what sort of substance addiction I might develop or serious lawsuit might come up against me. I'd better write a song I can sell to Proctor & Gamble now rather than later."
Speaking of allergies, I have them. BADLY. I think the worst I've had since I woke up next to Lake Tahoe, literally covered in that awful yellow pollen that blankets that whole region during the midsummer months.
I fled my house: I believe I am allergic to something in it. I woke up this morning, after 12 hours of sleep, disturbed once by my alarm clock that I had forgotten to turn off and once by Jeeves, who required his usual morning micturation at 5:45. Other than that, I was out like the proverbial log and barely able to lift the blankets off of myself at 11:30am.
I felt like I was walking through pea soup as I made my way to the living room and collapsed again next to the pile of clean laundry. I folded 2 shirts and then decided I should take a shower. Back through the soup again to the bathroom.
Finally at about 1:00 after a loratadine, a shower and a cup of tea, I thought I should take Jeeves out. I felt considerably better outside, but no completely. I came home again, piled him and myself in the car and fled to my parents house, laundry still uncompleted.
This is disheartening.
I promised myself I would clean the house today. I made a deal with myself that I would. There are people coming over tonight! One of them is someone I went to high school with and haven't seen since!
This is disastrous. Because instead of returning home, I am writing a blog entry, trying to inspire myself by looking up knitting patterns, writing emails and watching the clock.
3 hours until they're supposed to arrive: I must remember to pick up a bottle of wine. At least the glasses are clean.
2.75 hours. I guess I could move the laundry into the bedroom. As long as I fold it before I go to bed. As long as I fold it before I go to bed.
2.5 hours. It's so uncomfortable being there. What on earth am I going to do?
2.25 hours. I have no idea where Kresge auditorium is. I'd better look that up.
2 hours. Crap! 2 Hours!
And so on.