The Couch

It's ironic that something you like so much can be the death of you, which is why I've been camped out on my couch for two days surrounded by used toilet paper, empty pharmaceutical wrappers, and a very bad headache. I do like trees and have even been known to hug them occasionally, but this week they can all go to hell as far as I'm concerned. I've been moving between allergy miserableness and antihistamine cloudiness for a couple of days now. I'm trying to find a nice balance by taking half the recommended medication dosage, but I think all it's done is ensure that I suffer from allergies and side-effects at the same time. Next maybe I'll try taking twice the dosage.

Yesterday I ventured outside only twice and aborted a walk after a half a block, so B's starting to get that 'I have the ASPCA on speed dial and plan to call them as soon as you lose consciousness' look on her face. The rain today should take care of some of that damnable pollen in the air, but also puts a damper on our plans to go to the dog park. If I don't perk up soon, B's going to be filing for emancipation.

I'm still trying to figure this blog thing out and managed to add the ads to this site. They're content-driven and all day as I've been checking my html work on the site, I keep seeing ads about depression and suicide prevention (including one entitled 'do Christian suicides go to heaven' or something like that). Yikes! I need to start writing more about sunshine and kittens.