I suffer from seasonal allergies. From the end of August to the end of September I am one miserable bitch. How can I illustrate this so that you get the magnitude of my suffering?
Oh, yes. That will do nicely.
Thing is, last night I went to bed all smug because it’s the end of August and I hadn’t sneezed but a few times. “Dude! It looks like it’s going to be an easy season,” I told Jack.
I spoketh too soon. This morning I can’t. Stop. Sneezing. And sniffling. And honking. And snorting.
In the words of Fat Bastard, “I’m dead sexy!”
Damn you, seasonal allergies!! Damn. You.