The weather out there

Okay, I know it is my own damn fault for living in Central Ohio, but good God almighty I hate how the weather changes here min the spring. On Wednesday of last week it was 68, on Saturday it was snowing, and today it is getting up to 75. My sinuses cannot handle this kind of strain. I have a brick in my forehead and I am sure there is cement in my nostrils. Breathing is a luxury I cannot afford to give up. Luckily with strong medication I can pass as a typical human. I think the greenies that are gibbering about global warming should change tack and start talking about how erratic the weather is getting as we destabilize the climate with greenhouse gasses. No one can say that the seasons are not getting more and more wonky. They are all over the place. Snow, rain, sleet, sunshine, wind (lots of wind), and 75 degrees all in the span of 3 days. If that is not wonky weather, I am a mule with a spinning wheel.

I am only staying marginally functional as a human being due to my overzealous use of nasal spray and Advil Cold and Sinus. Nasal spray is truly a gift of the gods. It takes sinus passages that are clogged with rocks, sticks, and other flotsam and jetsam and makes then artificially clear of anything. It gives them a disturbingly clean feeling. A clean feeling that constantly reminds you that you are only breathing due to the wonders of modern science. I hate this time of year. The weather finally starts to be nice and I cannot breathe through my nose to save my life except for the aforementioned power of the nasal spray. Ah, Zicam, you are well loved.

But enough about the weather and my sinusitis... I have found that whenever talk strays to the weather in a conversation, that conversation is nearly done. Unless a participant in the conversation makes some Herculean effort to come up with a better topic, that conversation will be dead within 5 minutes. This, of course, did not hold true when I was at The Ohio State University's Geography and Atmospheric Sciences department. When chats took the turn to weather, people were just getting warmed up, but that is a different story all together. Anyway... what I was saying is that weather ends conversations (except in extreme situations), and I wonder why my Dad always starts off with weather. Do I have so little in common with this man now that the only way we can relate is by chatting about the weather? Then again Dad puts brown sugar on rice, so I should probably not use his as a barometer.... Get it? Barometer. Oh, I slay me!!!