Or: I’m Really Allergic to the South

I have lived in a lot of different places across the good ol’ U.S. of A. I’ve been to even more states.

Pink is where I’ve lived, green is where I’ve been, and beige states obviously don’t exist in reality because I haven’t been there yet. Sorry, most-of-the-middle-of-America.
Click for original map-source.

In all the places I’ve lived, I’ve never once suffered from allergies of any kind.

Until I came to the South.

Things are beautiful here. Right now, the sun is shining, and it’s better than 60 degrees outside. The breeze is cool and the trees and the grass and the flowers are starting to bloom.

Hurray nature! This is how the weather SHOULD be experienced.

This is a problem.

This is a very accurate representation of my allergy face.

A big problem. All of these plants insistently breeding means I can’t breathe. I’ve never been quite able to identify what it is in the South that I am allergic to, but whatever it is, it’s a plant that really enjoys trying to make baby plants ALL THE TIME. Its pollen saturates the air.

This is an even more accurate representation of my allergy face.

Plants in the South are just super extra interested in knowing each other Biblically*, apparently.
*It IS the Bible belt, after all, so it only makes sense.

I’m still mad at nature, even if it motivates me to dress like a bandit.

It’s really awkward, when you think about it. I just wish they’d leave me out of the process. Isn’t that what bees are for?

I miss bees.

Oh Monsanto. Why do you hate honey and flowers? Way to kill all the bees, guys.
(Just kidding)