There are a lot of things to love about springtime. The weather is starting to get warmer, the birds are chirping sweet melodies and my affinity for public nudity is — though still illegal according to my latest court summons — more seasonally appropriate. But there’s one part of spring I can’t stand: the pollen. It ruins everything.
I know, I know, you’re probably thinking I should quit moaning and just enjoy the sunshine. But listen, I’m just like everybody else. I put my medals on one at at time (I know the typical saying is, “put my pants on one leg at a time,” but I had to throw out all my pants to make room for the surplus of medals I have as a result of always winning stuff). I, too, would love to lay out on the Lawn soaking in the sun’s rays and participating in fun springtime traditions like pretending to like country music. You know that guy who’s always driving around when it’s warm out, windows down, blasting “Wagon Wheel?” We all know he grew up in suburban Ohio. He’s never even seen a wagon. And you just know he’s going to turn to you as he’s singing, “Rock me momma like a southbound train,” and look at you all meaningfully and nod, as if this part really speaks to him, and it’s like, “Cool it, Brett, you drive a Prius.”
In any case, I really do love spring. I love going on hikes, tubing and comparing the record-setting SPF of my special-ordered sunscreen with all the other white people, the whole nine yards. But when that yellow powder of evil shows up, it’s all over for me. I’m sneezing constantly. Then comes the cough. I can’t stop rubbing my eyes and now they’re bright red. They begin to swell shut and my whole face balloons up, and make no mistake, I still look gorgeous, like “Maybe it’s Maybelline” kind of hot, but just slightly less so than usual. And it’s nearly impossible to enjoy any of those lovely spring activities when you can’t breathe or see.
Heading out for a lovely spring day only to get decimated by pollen is like reaching for a cool drink of water and discovering your rascal little brother replaced your drink with rat poison again. It’s like that classic feeling of being at prom and thinking they’re about about to crown you prom queen, only to be escorted out of the dance because apparently they thought your slogan (You Losers Better Vote for Me or I’ll Burn This Whole Place Down) was “concerning” and “a red flag.” It’s like when you’ve already poured your champagne to toast to the election of the first female president and suddenly the reporters announce that instead the country has elected what appears to be the product of Voldemort raising a deformed centaur-child and dying it orange. In short, it’s a real bummer.
I’d like to take a moment to honor the heroes too often forgotten in our world. I’m talking about Zyrtec, Claritin, Allegra Allergy — maybe even Benadryl if I’m feeling crazy. Normally, I’m not one to promote drug use. I’ve seen that “This is your brain on drugs” stuff — didn’t understand it, but I’ve seen it. I encourage you to make healthy choices in your life and stay away from the dangers of drug dependency. Unless it’s allergy medicine. In that case, crush up some Claritin and let’s get weird! It’s springtime, baby!
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