All I have to say is “fuck pollen”, specifically oak and cedar pollen.
I never had problems with allergies or my sinuses until I moved to Austin. Guess what Austin, you have no idea what humidity feels like until you’ve spent entire summers in 150% humidity and 100°+ heat, drenched with sweat .07 seconds after you emerge from your hermetically sealed, air conditioned cocoon of a home… so stop complaining, ok? I mean, yeah, I’m sure it’s more miserable in certain other parts of the world… Ethiopia, Botswana, or some other technologically vacuous and environmentally hostile sinkhole, but they’re justified to bitch bout it. No, spend a typical summer in the trench-rot friendly environs of Southern Louisiana, then come back here and we’ll have an educated conversation about humidity.
What does this have to do with sinuses and pollen? Humidity keeps pollen from traveling very far — the pollen particles get saturated and just thud to the ground, listless. It’s a wonder there is anything growing in SoLa. Here, in Central Texas, the pollen sets new world distance traveling records every year… hell, pollen here comes equipped with jetpacks, a sinus seeking radar, and a giant red button labeled “Red Alert: Attack”.
It is so dry here in comparison to NOLA, that I was borderline for perpetual nosebleeds for the first 3 months until I acclimated. All that dry weather causes your sinus passageways to contract, opening up a superhighway for the spores to travel, then they slam shut again. The pressure builds up until your eyes want to escape your head for fear of being propelled at high velocity into your monitor, your nose is incapable of even the most pathetic wet gurgle, and dear jeebus it’s the 17th street floodwall disaster all over again when the dam finally breaks and you flood your nose and throat with shockingly fast moving fluid that leaves a fetid water-line down the front of your shirt. All you need is the Army to come along and spray-paint an “X” on you, declaring how many bodies are inside and when they checked you.
A colorful description, I know. Just thought I’d share my misery.