COLUMN: Allergic to East Texas

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 toeI 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 its 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 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. 

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