Well, well, well… this week has really been an eye-opener for me – when I wasn’t sleeping, that is. I learned that living in Harrisonburg, a small city, for part of allergy season, does not mean I’m experiencing allergy season. I came back to Stuarts Draft with all of my stuff on Sunday, May 5th, and it was like nature was saying to me, “You’re my little puppet now, Schumin!” Yes, yes, yes… I get home from college to Stuarts Draft, which is pretty much in the country, with our house next to George Washington National Forest, and my allergies spazz out. Suddenly, I’m sneezing, I have a sore throat from all the extra stuff in my throat, I’m congested, and all of that to make for one unhappy me. It’s that magical time of the year when we want to take those save-the-plants environmentalists and knock them into next Thursday. From late March until the middle of June, I would be perfectly content cutting down every tree and paving every last bit of nature if it would make my allergies go away or be less intense. This is one reason that when I graduate college, I am never living in the country ever again. In the almost ten years I’ve spent living in Stuarts Draft, I’ve found that there are things to appreciate about rural America, like pristine scenery, cleaner air, and less people, but then the onslaught of allergy season, along with fertilizer smells and lack of choices in commerce, make it not worth it for me. I’ll take the smell of diesel exhaust, crowds of people, and tall buildings any day because there’s less plant life in the springtime to cause my allergies to flare up. Sure, I’ll still have some allergy issues, but much less, we would think. Meanwhile, though, I’m popping pills for my allergies twice a day, and trying to do the best I can despite the conditions.
