Tissue & Me

Who has allergies? Wait… Only me? Well then!

That’s how I have always felt.

The people around me do not understand or they blatantly don’t care. This is how my story started: I was born on a Monday scores and decades ago. As the doctor was handing me to my parents, there was a long string of snot coming from my nose–at least that’s the story that my dad tells and he sticks to it–so I guess that it’s true. I have always been a chronic sneezer, trumpet nose blower, tissue totin’, hive raisin, can’t breathe through my nose, sinus-draining hoarse talker. All because of allergies. I literally take tissue with me everywhere I go. There’s tissue in the shower, tissue in the bed, tissue in the car. I even carry a box around while I’m at work. People always laugh when they see me with the box, but it’s not funny when they have to humbly ask for a tissue. I’m always accused of having a cold and I get the occasional scoot-away…doesn’t bother me any because I didn’t want to sit that close to you anyway!

Don’t mind me and my introvert problems. Speaking of introvertism, I DID enjoy staying home during the height and introduction of COVID in 2020. Many people were depressed and suffering from cabin fever. I was having the best time of my life with my family and not missing the outside world. I virtually went to work, visited the CDC for the daily infection count, and ordered tissue from my sofa to be delivered–well, tossed–in the yard by the driver of whichever delivery service visited the warehouse.

As you can see, tissue is a major part of my life. I have a mass supply. Welcome to my world.