Snuff, snuff, sniffle. . . I have emptied a box of tissues already this week, plus the one at home. It is impossible to figure out if I am coming down with something, and is it bacterial, or is there something in the air? One minute I'm fine, one minute I'm sneezing, and the next I can only breathe through one side of my nose -- no wait -- it's mouth only. My usually charming Midwestern nasal twang soweds moe lye-guh dis.
Wouldn't you know it though, this is what I went through nine months ago when I arrived here. First I thought it was road fatigue plus the dust from all my moving boxes. Then I thought it was pollen in my new neighborhood, plus poor local air quality. The week after that I tried the mold in my office theory, but that didn't work either. Nothing worked: over the counter, behind the counter, antihistamine, decongestant, histamine blocker, neti pot, herbs, nada. The acupuncturist said it was stress and I drank this awful tea tasting of Farmer's Friend throat lozenges for a week. Two rounds of antibiotics finally seemed to kick it in the pants, but that was right around the time when I got word about my Illinois bar results, so who really knows whether it was the drugs or the endorphins kicking my immune system back into gear.
I'm complacent, thinking that perhaps my new move is bringing it all on and that it will pass. The uncertainty, the logistics, the pressure -- enough to make me want to curl up with some chicken soup and sleep until the whole thing is over. Some kind of psycho-somatic reaction to change, which my body sees it as threatening rather than exciting. What a drag, though -- it's going to be a few more weeks before I get all unpacked again. I'd like to be known as the wonderful new person in town and at the office, not the poorly looking soul with the red nose and watery eyes.
But if sniffling for the next week is the way to get there, so be it. I'll just take some zen-like action to address the problem indirectly (sudafed not doing a hell of a lot anyway, so my allergies can just bite it if they think they're going to get me down). A manicure. A massage. Several bottles of champagne. A date. Concert tickets. Nothing can get me down because I feel good, look good, and have great things to look forward to. Sniff, sniff, sniff.
About this Blog
About this Blog: Divorce is something you do, not something you are. It is not easy, but it can be funny. I know hanging on to my humor gave me hope and courage. Divorce shouldn't cramp your style. There are whole industries devoted to helping brides plan their weddings -- why shouldn't we have a style guide for divorce?