Don't Let The Yellow Door Hit You On Your Way Out!

(originally posted @ My Really, Real Reality)

Dear Pollen;

I could no longer hold my feelings inside.  I had to write to tell you that I deeply, truly, madly, endlessly despise you!  I, for one, have just about enough of your antics!  What makes you think you have the right to take over Spring and ruin it for so many of the rest of us?  I am sick and tired of your little games. 

I can't take any more of the way you make my eyes water and itch.  Completing the image with dark circles underneath that make me appear as if I have done a few rounds with a heavyweight boxer.  Not that I can see it for myself, thanks to the way they swell up.

The way you make my sinuses close up, and yet somehow you still manage to keep my nose drip, drip, dripping between the seemingly endless sneezing:  nice - really nice.  As if that isn't enough misery, you also cause the roof of my mouth to be itchy and irritated, along with a sore throat.  And you top the entire package off with some wheezy breathing. 

It's not just the way you treat me personally.  You have no respect for any of my belongings either.  You turn my car a funky color by leaving a coating of yellow on top of the original paint color.  Also spreading your yellow dust onto my windows, the front door, and all over my porch and driveway.  It's disgusting to have yellow finger tips every time I try to touch something.  Which means washing my hands before I accidentally touch my face and make the above mentioned attacks even worse! 

Oh sure, you think you are so great and special.  I'm sure the pharmaceutical companies are big fans of yours.  And the tissue manufacturers (who I probably single-handedly keep in business this time of year).  And yes, I know all about how you are responsible for the creation of delicious fruits and vegetables.  I don't want to hear it.  Come back and talk to me sometime in late June or July.  When I'm not a sneezing, wheezing, snotty mess.  Maybe I'll be willing to listen as I bite into a nice juicy peach or slice up a ripe tomato. 

Until then, I don't want anything to do with you.  Do me a favor - take your yellow mess and just leave!

Insincerely Yours...


In order to comment on, you'll need to be logged in. You'll be given the option to log in or create an account when you publish your comment. If you do not log in or create an account, your comment will not be displayed.