Allergies Suck

This summer has been kicking my ass like no other in recent memory. Let me try to describe it as partial justification for why I only posted once last week. This is kind of graphic, so the squeamish should take heed.

1. I awake with the peculiar feeling of the Sahara having taken residence in my mouth. This is because earlier in the night, while I was sleeping, my nasal passages closed and so for the past four hours I've been breathing through my mouth to avoid suffocation. My tongue has a delightful coating of dried phlegm along its surface whose consistency resembles epoxy. My morning coffee and grapefruit juice are at industrial strength just so that I can taste them.
   
2. My head aches almost immediately after I get up, due to the air trapped inside my sinus cavities. Said cavities also feel like they've been filled with cement. I have my daily fantasy of drilling holes into my skull and installing purge valves which allow me to rinse my sinuses with warm saline before vacuuming the mess out. I conclude that with body piercing and tribalism on the rise, I could totally rock the industrial-goth look with a rig like that and not look at all out of place. Perhaps even devise a line of fashionable valve accessories, like colorful caps which match my nail polish.
   
3. Now that I am vertical, the mucous within my skull sloooooowly drains under the inexorable force of gravity. Half of it decides to go out my nose, which I am constantly blowing and wiping. The other half goes down the back of my throat, requiring me to make that age-old female decision of spit or swallow? I go with swallow, because it's easier and over the course of my life I've already consumed liters of my own snot. But regardless of which choice I make, I will still sound like the worst cold you've ever had giving an exceptionally messy blowjob.
   
4. Oh look, it's noon. I've finally managed to expel most of the mucous from my head and am feeling mostly normal, but my nose is as red and raw as a W.C. Fields character. But god dammit, I can breathe now.
5. I have about three hours of grace in which I must perform all tasks requiring higher brain functions. Lotsa luck, Erin.
   
6. Around 4 pm, the Florida Afternoon Thunderstorm arrives. Now, I love thunderstorms, but these things push a pressure wave in front of them that causes excruciating headaches. Depending on my current sinus status and the direction of the storm, my head either feels like it's going to explode (low pressure front) or implode (high pressure front). I begin to ache fully an hour before the storm hits. Sometimes I take various painkillers but at this point I've built up a decent tolerance to anything that isn't prescription-strength.
   
7. As the storm hits, I crawl into bed with the lights out and desperately try to relax. This is roughly equivalent to not flinching after receiving a static shock. I briefly contemplate the virtues of monastic asceticism and meditation before realizing I couldn't last a day without an internet connection.
   
8. I wake up between 7 and 8 pm. Repeat steps 1-3, only this time now I have to deal with my family, walk my dogs, and fix and eat a dinner that's about 2 hours too late for my hypoglycemic ass.
   
9. Try desperately to be productive between 11 pm and 2 am, which is the period after my family goes to sleep but before I go completely loopy from exhaustion.
   
10. Say "fuck it" and play City of Heroes or Dungeons & Dragons Online before going to sleep.
    

I cannot wait for Fall.