I have a love/hate relationship with Fall. Before fall comes, I feel excited about all the things it brings. Fall means, first and foremost, football season. (Can't wait to see the Huskers play this year. Last year, I was standing behind the Estee Lauder counter almost every Saturday!) I also love the smells of fall and watching the trees change color over the months. (This year, BF and I are planning on getting some great pics outdoors.) Fall means jean jackets and hoodies - two of my favorite things. It means I can go golfing without breaking a sweat. It means pumpkins and Thanksgiving are coming soon, and Christmas is right around the corner. So, as much as I hate seeing summer come to an end (because it is my favorite season), there is a lot to look forward to in the fall. This, however, is my attitude before the ragweed fills the air and I remember that Fall is . . . allergy season. I'm basically allergic to the outdoors. It means hay fever. . . itchy eyes, itchy throat, an itch that goes deep into my inner ears . . . sneezing that brings on headaches, and either serious drainage, congestion, or runny nose (I'm not sure which I prefer).
I remember the first time my allergies hit. I was in the 3rd grade, playing soccer out on the field, and had to get sent home from school because my eyes were so swollen that I looked like I'd been hit in the face with a bat. Every year I hope for a miracle and wait until it hits before I'll get my meds. This year, it came a week later than usual, and yesterday I was forced to stock up on prescription pills, nasal spray, and eye drops in hopes that this fall will be bearable.