I am uninspired. I think it is because my eyes have been burning with allergies for going on three weeks now. They burn, they burn, they burn. They burn slightly less for a little while when I put the anti-histamine drops in. Then they burn again. But I can't do anything about it, because I'm only supposed to put in the drops twice a day. The only thing I feel inspired to do is give in to my eyelids. My eyelids are inspired to slide down over my eyeballs and protect them from whatever the fuck I am allergic to.
My doctor theorizes that it is mould. I read that little is known about allergic reactions to mould. If you say to someone, "I am allergic to mould," they automatically think the walls of your apartment are covered in that black terrifying mould you find in dank basements. Then you have to explain that, no, you're really just allergic to the natural processes of plant life, in particular, the decomposition part. Yesterday my aunt said, "That sucks, Honey, but that's Spring." I couldn't really disagree with that.
I did not have allergies before my 33rd year.
Well, unless you count the hives I got when I was small. I got hives from eating two things:
1. maple syrup
I also got hives when the other kids in my class got chicken pox. Although I never got the chicken pox, I am immune to them.
I think it is pretty cool to be immune to chicken pox without getting chicken pox, but if I had to pick what I'd like to be immune from I would pick light. I am the opposite of immune to light. I am vulnerable to light. Very.