Hell Hath No Fury
Like a woman with seasonal allergies

I’m cold and I’m drippy. My eyes are watering. I sound like I’m eighty. I’m popping Benadryl like it’s going out of style. You see, the majority of my formative years were spent in a world where only two seasons existed, rainy and not rainy. I’ve never been able to get used to the East Coast concept of seasons. Spring is a bitch.

However, all of my nasal issues will be solved when I leave for Seattle next week. Things should be on the busy side so forgive me if I’m absent for a little while. There are so many tasks to be accomplished before I depart. Finalizing my living situation is one of them. Worst case scenario? Picture me roaming the busy streets of the city in my couture knock-offs, panhandling for double tall Americanos.