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17-06-2010I am pretty sure there are quite a few people that will be able to relate to this post.
It's very simple. Hay fever is a bitch. The constant never - ending sneezing. The itchy, watery eyes. The runny nose. The itchy throat. The stuffed up feeling when the tablets are working. Everything about it sucks!
It comes at the worst time of the year. The sun is shinning, it's Ireland and yet being outside without a coat is bearable every once in a while, there are days in the park, trips to the beach, picnics and road trips, adventure days and in amongst all that is the constant fricking sneezing the eye rubbing, the grouchy feeling that comes along after spending the last three hours blowing your nose and 'over blinking' to ease the itchiness in the eyes. Not to mention the awful hacking cough that is a result of trying to get to an itch in your throat.
I got a dose of hay fever when I was over in Liverpool, after munching on hay fever tablets like they were smarties I was no better. Our big night out I was incorporating the sneezing into my dance moves. It's a hot look.
The thing is, I LOVE summer. I was born to live somewhere exotic and warm. Endless balmy evenings and warm afternoons, pure bliss. Yet here I am actually wishing for winter. Stupid hay fever is ruining my summer!
In other news, the gym is still going well. With each trip it gets a little easier. Last night I even walked home. Makes no sense I know, but the thing is before last night when I left the gym, I trudged home, it took all the energy I had to shuffle my feet along the 5 minute walk back to the apartment. Last night I walked briskly. Ok the face was still as red as a tomato but I reckon no matter how fit I am that one is always going to be a problem. Even when I was in school I regularly played sports a few times a week as part of PE and I always had a tomato-esk face by the time the class was over. I remember when I was 16 my PE class used to fall in the last period of the day. That was a tough year. After PE class I had to run and catch my bus home. A bus we shared with the local all boys school, the Abbey. At 16 years of age, nothing in your world is as horrible has having to get on a bus full of boys with a tomato for a face. If nothing else at least they could never tell when I was blushing
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