Thank God for tomorrow

I heard on the radio that the term “hay fever” has been replaced with “seasonal allergies.” Can they do that? Who makes up these rules? Is there a committee? Do we have to be politically correct about our runny noses now? Where does it end?

Whatever you call it, it is not fun.

The quarter-inch of pollen coating my car has made its way up my nose, through my sinus cavities, and has made a comfy home for itself behind my eyeballs. It is not a job for Zyrtec, it’s beyond that. I’ve had to bring out the big guns . . . Dayquil. Yes!

So I bailed out of work today, took Jaxon to school and then put myself back to bed. And I’m so very grateful that I was able to do that. Then I hauled myself back to the car to go fetch him at 3. Again, major thankfulness. And finally, I ordered takeout, ensuring my safety from having to interact with any humans today besides my son. Poor kid, he’s stuck with me.

Remember that scene from Home Alone where Macaulay Culkin orders pizza and then sets up a speaker with a shoot-em-up movie playing so the dude grabs the money and runs and he never has to open the door? I seriously considered doing that. There are no words to explain how very bad I look right now.

This is what I’d like to think I look like: This is probably closer to reality:

Except that I’m a woman, at least I was the last time I checked.

When Lynn reads this blog, he may feel an intense urge to stay in Africa. Can’t say I blame him.

All I can say is, thank God for tomorrow.