We’ve had a heatwave. Hottest May days ever, apparently. Now that we’re sliding out of it, and there‘s a cool breeze through the window, it finally feels like my brain can function again, which hopefully you, me, and my manager can all agree is a good thing.
What isn’t a good thing is that the heat seems to have kickstarted the grass seed, activating the annual torment of hay fever.
I’m so tired of complaining about hay fever. Every year I go on and on about how awful it is, how I’m suffering, and how much I’m sneezing and sniffling so pathetically. This year it seems to me that moaning about it is just as bad, and I don’t want to make things worse with an attitude. It is so boring.
So, I’m challenged by allergies today. Difficult, but compared to some things people have to go through, very bearable. I have access to fexofenadine via high street pills, and we have tissues and towels and water and air purifiers. And in a few weeks I will be alright.
The heatwave nights were difficult too. I sleep deeply so it’s rare for me to wake up in the middle of the night these days. Yet on both the last two nights, I’ve been woken up purely by the heat. It’s been almost as though my body has a thermostat, clicking in when it can no longer route enough power to the sleep centre. It hasn’t helped with the grumpy attitude, any more than the open windows have. I think if it were up to me, I’d have designed the grass to spawn in winter.
Anyway. I’m pushing through.
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