H is for HOLY SHIT WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR EYES?

It's a bit of a special-purpose swear, I admit. But it does apply to me. So I guess I'm special.

You can use the abbreviated version if you like.

Here's the thing: I live in Texas, where there are plenty of things to be allergic to. The good news is, I'm only allergic to one thing.

Unfortunately, the thing I'm allergic to is Texas.

It's like an FBI's Most Wanted poster
of things that make me miserable.

Of course, my allergies only bother me in the spring and fall. And the beginning and end of summer. And bits of the winter if it's been mild. So really, only about ten months out of the year.

My allergy symptoms are typical: sneezing, sniffling, itchy eyes, the gentle caress of asthma slowly squeezing the air out of my lungs until I'm sucking on an emergency inhaler in the front seat of my car like a junkie huffing paint in a back alley.

Is it just me, or do you have to admire
the quiet dignity on the face of this man
taking a mug shot with his face full
of Krylon Silver Flake?

Anyway, I pop my Claritin and I'm more or less fine. But every once in a while - and I mean years will go by without this happening - I'll experience something else. Just out of the blue. Just for funsies.

Basically my eyes swell up like fleshy pink golf balls for three days.

Which simply is not as cute as it sounds.

There is no warning. There is nothing I can do to prevent it, and precious little I can do once it happens. I know it's coming - there's a very specific sort of burning and twitching around my eyes as it starts - and then it comes. In the space of ten minutes I go from looking like an average human to looking like Sloth from The Goonies.

You know what? I don't look that good.

Yeah, it's happening to me now. It came on last night. I didn't go to work today because 1) I couldn't open my eyes wide enough to drive and b) I was mostly unconscious from taking triple doses of antihistamine. Also, I couldn't wear makeup. No way I was going to out in public looking like that.

As my Drunkards know, I don't use my name or face on this blog. If you happen to be one of IRL Facebook friends, you saw the picture I posted this morning of my horrifying visage. I don't really want to go full frontal here, if you will. But I can show you my eyes.

My eyes are literally the only part of me that I find attractive.

The eyes were given by God, but the wrinkles
I earned, bitches.

I figure this is the reason the Lord decided to afflict me specifically on my peepers. As a lesson about vanity. And also because He has a sick sense of humor.

Exhibit A: And on the sixth day, God lost a bar bet.

Here's what my eyes looked like a few minutes after my latest allergic episode began:

Hide yo' children.

Here's what they looked in full flower, so to speak:

They're open as wide as I could open them.

And here's what they looked like about 20 hours after this all started:

Yes, I'm much better now.

Tomorrow I'll go back to work. I won't be 100% better, but I'll be able to drive and see. The lovely boys at my office will either gather around me and gawk, or...no, they'll definitely gather around me and gawk. That's OK. I find the whole experience to be a lot less mortifying than when it happened in my 20s or 30s. I'm much more mature and self-confident now. I also give a shit a lot less. With age comes wisdom and a lot of not giving a shit.

By Saturday I should be able to wear makeup again, and by Sunday it'll be as it never happened. And then I just wait to win the bloated-eyeball lottery again someday. Yayz.

So that's my A to Z Swearing Challenge entry for today. Does it also count for I? Because you know...EYE?

Maybe not.

P.S. Special thanks to Drummer Boy for his initial reaction when I sent him the first picture of my afflicted eyes last night. Too bad Rihanna didn't have someone like you in her life when what you thought happened to me actually happened to her. You can be a big Neanderthal sometimes, and I love you for it.