Pollen: A Vision Lover's Enemy

When you're hot, you're hot, and lately I've been on fire. I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I'm just in the kind of groove where there's always a great scene waiting to be written. Beyond the scenes there's another script, itching to be realized. Since moving offices a few months ago (I do my work at work...after work), I have been enjoying the healthiest writing lifestyle of my life. I often wondered as to what might derail me. Would I wake up one day and find that all of the fingers on each hand had been fused into two annoyingly large fingers? Would the world come to an end? Would it be the ninjas? (Cake Man knows) No, none of the above. Instead, I'm brought to my knees by pollen, nature's sperm.

Oh how I hate allergy season, nature's coordinated ejaculation onto mankind. There's no escaping it. It's the one discharge that gets a little bit on everyone.... Anyway, my eyes have been bested by this foul substance. Even as I sit here, typing this post, it would be virtually impossible to stare at the computer screen if it were not for a double dose of benadryl. Oh benadryl, my pill shaped savior, but I will sing your praise later because you make me sleepy. And so I am either sleepy and mildly productive, or in agonizing discomfort and mildly productive. In a job where I can easily spend six hours a day staring into a computer, my eyes just don't have it in them to press on for an additional two hours. Everyone keeps telling me to rest. I say, spoken like true commoners. A writing groove must not end by choice! It must continue on, the writer taking advantage of every glorious page before his well runs dry. And so I sally forth and write on, riding a hybird steed of benadryl, claritin, mucin eye drops for tired eyes, and bausch and lomb allergy eye drops. It all makes me look and feel like a crackhead, but at least the pages will keep coming.