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eldritch horrors such as man was not meant to wot of...
Monday, 18 October 2010 04:16 pm... I may be allergic to Hobbit.
On Saturday afternoon my sinuses imploded. Again. Manic sneezing, nose streaming, epic headache, eyes all bleary, cheekbones aching, sympathetic glandular wossnames. I thought I had a giant cold. I phoned Jean and apologised for not coming to help her move books. "Sorry, huge cold, probably infectious", I said, stroking Hobbit, who was sprawled lovingly across my desk. I fortified myself with Advil and proceeded with Life, or at least as much of it as can be achieved while horizontal and racked by sneezing.
On Sunday morning I woke up feeling fine. "Gosh, not actually a cold," I thought, stroking Hobbit, who was sprawled lovingly across my desk. Three minutes later the giant sneezes started, followed in close succession by the dancing parade of other symptoms. "Hmmm," I thought, as a faint correlation nagged for my attention.
It may not be Hobbit. I may be maligning him horribly, and instead be reacting to some fiendish pollen concentration which has identified my desk as Ground Zero for inscrutable vegetable purposes of its own. But, despite being in the slightly removed state attendant upon being blasted on antihistamines for two days, I'm somewhat suspicious. Not to mention annoyed and irritated. I've never shown a shadow of a cat allergy in a long life of devotion to the feline cause, and I'll be bloody well narked if one spontaneously generates now.
On Saturday afternoon my sinuses imploded. Again. Manic sneezing, nose streaming, epic headache, eyes all bleary, cheekbones aching, sympathetic glandular wossnames. I thought I had a giant cold. I phoned Jean and apologised for not coming to help her move books. "Sorry, huge cold, probably infectious", I said, stroking Hobbit, who was sprawled lovingly across my desk. I fortified myself with Advil and proceeded with Life, or at least as much of it as can be achieved while horizontal and racked by sneezing.
On Sunday morning I woke up feeling fine. "Gosh, not actually a cold," I thought, stroking Hobbit, who was sprawled lovingly across my desk. Three minutes later the giant sneezes started, followed in close succession by the dancing parade of other symptoms. "Hmmm," I thought, as a faint correlation nagged for my attention.
It may not be Hobbit. I may be maligning him horribly, and instead be reacting to some fiendish pollen concentration which has identified my desk as Ground Zero for inscrutable vegetable purposes of its own. But, despite being in the slightly removed state attendant upon being blasted on antihistamines for two days, I'm somewhat suspicious. Not to mention annoyed and irritated. I've never shown a shadow of a cat allergy in a long life of devotion to the feline cause, and I'll be bloody well narked if one spontaneously generates now.
