When choosing a college, there’s a lot of things that go into consideration. How does the school color look on you? How far away from home is it? Is there a good program for you? We often overlook the simple things when there’s just so many other and more important things. I perhaps, may not have considered the simplest thing.
I’m allergic to pine trees.
I live in East Texas now.
Not only do my mornings now start with a healthy dose of Claritin and allergy-preventing eye drops, but sometimes my day ends as soon as I touch a pine needle. Even if it’s with my little toe, I will still get red and itchy.
No, I’m not dying, but I’m not exactly happy about the situation either. There weren’t many pine trees around where I grew up. Pecan? Yes. Pine? No. So, how exactly was I supposed to know that I was allergic to East Texas?
Every day is a struggle. Even when I take out the trash, I’m fighting pine trees for survival. There’s one specific one that hangs out behind Kerr, waiting for me to forget it’s there and die with a bag full of trash in my hand.
Out of all the dream-crushers to exist, I’d have to say this is the worst one. I can get over not marrying Harry Styles or Louis Tomlinson. I can get over being lactose intolerant (hint: I eat dairy anyway). I can get over not being the daughter of a multi-billionaire. But, I can’t get over sneezing every time I’m outside, especially in the middle of a pandemic.
If you see me sneezing, bless me. I promise I’m (probably) not infected with Corona, I’m just allergic to existing at this point.