respiratory bug that seemed invincible, I lie in bed tonight with Tiger on the pillow beside me, the rain pelting the new leaves on trees outside my window. My hope is that rain washes all the pollen away and I can open my windows again.
April, considered to be the beautiful month spring really begins, is usually a tough month for most of us who have allergies. Instead of digging in the dirt, planting flowers, and enjoying the vibrant color of the forests, the dogwood, and oodles of other trees I can't name, I watch from inside - inside my car and inside my house.
To fight the symptoms of allergy turned ugly, I take over the counter antihistimine which gives me a strange "I don't care about anything but sleep" feeling. I realized today, in that state between total sleep and aware-of-someone- in-the-room, I could hear that a tornado was about to hit my house and I'd just pull the covers over my head and ignore it. I hate being drugged. I don't like feeling I'm not in control of myself.
DRUGS AND CREATIVITY
All those writers who drink and use drugs because they think it makes them more creative, well, I could not be one of them. I don't refuse pain pills when I hurt, but I'd rather deal with it than be unstable or unsure of myself. Guess I could never be a junkie.
I had to cancel my class tonight. I am sorry that three students did not get the message and showed up anyway. I missed seeing them and hearing what they had writen this week.
I can't keep my eyes open another minute. Sleep is healing, they say, so I expect to be well tomorrow.