His Name Is Robert Paulson

It feels like I got punched in the fucking head.

So last night, after a long and unforgiving week, I found myself sitting in my recliner at 7 P.M. reading comic books and watching the Rangers game. My allergies had been all ablaze for the past few days but they felt like they were getting worse. I was none too happy about this. I fell asleep midway through the game and woke up just about the end. I don't know if I felt worse because the Rangers lost or felt worse just because I felt worse.

There was this ridiculous pounding behind my right eye and my head felt like it was about to explode. I could barely breathe and I just kept thinking "This is allergies?" Every year they seem to get worse. I don't usually take medicine for them because it doesn't usually work but right about then I was willing to try anything. So at 1 A.M. I through some filthy clothes on (everything else was in the laundry) and headed out to CVS.

It's dark out but I can see the pollen on the ground in great green and yellow splotches, hell I can see some of it floating through the air. It's friggin' killing me. I'm tired and can't see straight so I'm driving a vehicle built to kill indiscriminately half dumb and blind. I feel slightly guilty about that but my guilt is assuaged by the fact that I think my head just exploded.

I hit the pharmo section of CVS hard looking and buy some pills and nasal spray that both start with "Z" because the only thing better than medicine that ends with an "X" is medicine that starts with a "Z". Unfortunately I couldn't find one that started with a "Z" and ended with an "X". At least not one that would have helped my allergies any.

This shit had to be good because I had to show ID to buy it. That means you probably can get high off it, which is good to know in a pinch. I also had to sign for it, but seeing as I couldn't think straight I have no idea what I signed. It could have said that Zyrtec causes cancer and the growth of a third ball and I probably would have signed happily because the alternative at this point is to drill a hole in my head and let my brains leak out. I pop a pill and hit the spray as soon as I get outside washing it down with some shitty apple juice. I drive home debating whether or not to pop a second pill just for good measure. I decide against it. Praying for rain.

I can't make it to my bed so I drop into my recliner and lay there miserably for an hour waiting for the meds to kick in. I hit the nasal spray again. I feel worse. I finally pass out feeling totally miserable. Weird dreams ensue.

Letter writing? Bocce Ball? Topo-fucking-Gigio?

Have one of those weird moments where dream segues into reality, wake up and literally say "Oh Wow." out loud.

The pressure has let up, it's just rained outside. I stumble into my bedroom and pass out again. I wake up to a noise that sounds like a bird chirping. My first thought is that my alarm has gone funny. It hasn't. My second thought is that I set the alarm on the TV or microwave. I stumble around, vision all blurry trying to find the source of the sound until I realize...it's a bird chirping...outside. I throw the same filthy clothes on from last night and head out the door to work.

Good morning y'all.