By MIA KOTELEC
Rapid fire sneezing. Drippy nose. Congestion. Yeah, I agree it’s pretty gross, but whether I like it or not, those are just the simple repercussions of having allergies that I deal with every day. The soundtrack of my life has always been a symphony of sniffles paired with a chorus of coughs, and some of you may know me from my greatest hits: “Coughing My Brains out in the Back of the Classroom” or “Oh Shit! We’re Out of Tissues!”
The fear of appearing contagiously sick or “germy” has been one of my greatest concerns regarding how people view my allergies, yet it never proved to be an issue unless I was around a hypochondriac or my nervous aunt. But ever since COVID-19 hopped on the scene, whenever I merely sniff, anyone within a five-mile radius whips their head around as though I am a live grenade on the brink of explosion. I can’t even stand in the line at CVS without feeling like I’m going to get tackled by the bomb squad at a moment’s notice.
And now that all of Monterey County is under a shelter-in-place order, I am sequestered with the very same furry beasts that are provoking my allergies in the first place. No matter how many hours I spend dusting, vacuuming and wiping, the indestructible balls of cat hair regenerate and morph with the same viciousness of coronavirus itself, planting themselves directly into my sinuses. I refuse to delve into the whole other ordeal of going outside, hoping to get a smidge of fresh air just to be bombarded by pollen, AKA “Nature’s Teargas,” because just thinking about it makes me so irate I could write a novel.
Trust me, I’m as paranoid about getting this virus as the next guy considering I have the immune system of a walnut. Everytime I wake up congested and sniffling, my first thought is to call the CDC, but then I remember the hairy fat cat laying in front of my door surrounded by a nest of hair spreading his little allergens all over the place.
I guess it makes sense for people to be a little on edge and overprotective sanitary-wise since we’re in the middle of a “gLobAL pAndEmiC” or whatever, and I’m not saying we should all go out and spread our juices everywhere, but it would be nice if I could cough without feeling ostracized like I’m being shunned away from the Amish.
I mean, in the end, if I test positive for corona this whole rant will be void. Yet until then, instead of wincing when I sneeze, just pass me the tissue box.