It does feel good to actually have a point in getting up every day.  My job isn’t what you’d consider something amazing I suppose , but in this economy, a job is a job.  Work is work.  Cleaning windows isn’t glamorous, but I do have to admit it’s kind of interesting.  I like the fact that I’m pretty much on my own as far as responsibility is concerned, and I like the fact that the level at which I choose to work directly affects my income.  Also, I like having my weekends off.

I am wishing it paid a little better though.  Definitely not gonna get rich doing this, but hopefully it can pay some of the bills.  I’m still not giving up on my writing or photography, and my hope is that I can make some money from those endeavors and top off the old checking account every month.  My little stint at being self employed was seriously derailed by two factors:  One, I apparently suck at marketing myself, and two, the United States economy sucks at everything.  I’m still in better shape than most people though, as I have absolutely no debt.  I’ve also still got a good amount in savings, although it was getting perilous there at the last.  Actually, I’m still not out of the woods yet, because my new job pays about half of what I used to make, so my belt must continue to be ever tight. 

Where did everything go so wrong?  Why are so many people out of work, and why is it so hard to find work these days?  I just don’t understand the brain-dead attitude that got us into this mess.  I sure wish someone would fix it.  This whole “recession/depression” thing is getting seriously old.

I suffer from severe seasonal allergies.  When I say “suffer”, I don’t say that lightly.  My allergies are quite serious, and they’ve caused me nothing but misery for years untold.

My adolescence didn’t help much either.  My affliction manifested in my early teens, my childhood having been pretty much allergy-free.  I’ve come to understand that this is fairly normal, although not the rule by any means.  Recent studies suggest that allergies can be “acquired” through environmental factors, and I’ve an idea that that was indeed my case.  Further evidence, in the fact that my older brother also has severe allergies, possibly even worse than mine, also supports this.

My factors were this:  We lived in the country, with open fields around us.  Lots of greenery, along with hay in the fields, woods across the road, and large, open yards everywhere.  Further compounding this, my mother was in the dog business.  She owned a kennel which provided her delight with pure-bred show dogs, so there were always dogs in the house as well as the yard.  We were also a big animal family as well, having at any one time a whole zoo of critters including cats and rabbits and birds and all manner of crawling, sneaking, slithering, barking, and whatever else have you things.  It was an allergen heaven to say the least.  It’s no wonder my brother and I spent our springs and summers in abject misery.

These days things are better.  Since moving to Utah, which is 90% desert, my allergies are much more controllable.  The dryness of the state and the fact that the local flora is very limited is a good thing for me.  Even so, I still have my issues.  I’m pretty sniffy all year around, as my friends will attest, but spring is always the worst time.  While everyone else is anticipating the warm weather, sunshine, and life in the great outdoors, I’m stocking up on medications and plugging in my air purifier, dreading the upcoming season.  I can deal though, for the most part.  Living more than half my life with allergies has taught me a few things.  I can almost be normal, for instance.  I can pet cats like anyone else, but I have to remember not to let them climb on me, and I wash my hands thoroughly at the first convenience.  I can enjoy hikes in fields and smell flowers, but this is only possible because I’m generally drugged up like Amy Winehouse at a house party.  These things I’ve learned, because the alternative is a horrible, sneezing death of wheezing agony.  You do what you have to do.

Case in point:  I’ve recently begun pouring warm, salty water directly into my head.  On purpose!  Drugs have come and gone over the years, and believe me, I’ve tried them all.  Sudafed, Tavist D, Claritin, all manner of histamine blockers, sprays, inhalers, tablets, drinks, herbal remedies, and even some more extreme methods that I won’t go into here.  Of these, only one, a medicine called Flonase, really works.  Again, I’ve tried them all.  Some of the over-the-counter stuff you see today I remember having prescriptions for when I was younger.  Medicines are always changing, but most of them are snake oil.  Flonase works, (for now) but it’s so expensive that it’s tough to justify sometimes.

Still, I’m willing to try anything.  Getting back on point, I read an article recently about “nasal irrigation.”  The article said that new research suggests that it helps sufferers of allergies, and can lessen their dependence on medications.  I’ve heard all that before though, but I’m willing to give it a shot.  The article said there were no adverse side effects, so I figured why not?

I bought a little thing called a “neti pot”, which looks curiously like Aladdin’s lamp, although without the wishes, and proceeded to follow the instructions.  Basically, there’s no real nice way to say this:  You fill the neti pot with warm water, pour in a solution of salt and baking soda, stir it up, and dump it in one side of your nose whilst breathing through your mouth.  Once you empty the pot, you mix up a second helping and do the other side.  If you’re doing it right, it fills your sinuses, then runs out the other side of your nose into the sink.  Now, if you’re thinking this sounds kinda gross, you’re right.  It’s also extremely uncomfortable.  Seriously, I find it to be a very unpleasant procedure.  Part of this has to do with the fact that my nose has been broken, I have a deviated septum, and my sinuses don’t quite line up right.  The other thing is that pouring salt water into your sinuses just isn’t comfortable at all.  Also, it sure doesn’t taste very good.  Who dreams up this stuff anyway?

The curious thing is, it seems to work.  After a treatment, I find myself somewhat less sniffy and my sinuses seem to be much clearer for a few hours.  Allergy season hasn’t kicked in full-force yet though, so the jury is still out.  Still, even a slight advantage in the war against allergies is a win for me.  Hopefully I’ll get used to it after a couple of weeks and the unpleasantness will wear off some.  I’m looking forward to having a year where I can breathe like a normal person, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes.  Even if it means snorting salt water.

One thing to remember, though.  If you come over to my house for a visit, and you’re thirsty; that’s not a teapot you may see sitting there.  Fair warning.

Like a lot of people, I’ve had my trusty driver’s license since I was sixteen.  In fact, I believe I got it the day after I turned sixteen.  I was in a bit of a hurry I guess, because most of the kids I went to school with were older than me, and some of them already had theirs, so I didn’t want to be left out for too long.  There was a brief period of time, about 30 days if I recall, where my license was suspended though.  That happened because of a speeding ticket I received not too long after getting it.  Suspension was standard practice for anyone under 18, and I had to go to court and pay a fine.  I learned my lesson after that, and kept my offenses to things like expired tags and parking tickets thereafter.

Just this past week, I decided that after living here in Utah for more than three years, I should probably go and finally get my Utah state driver’s license.  I’ve been putting it off for a couple of reasons:  Namely, I’m lazy, I plain forgot on numerous occasions, and finally, my old license from Ohio didn’t expire until this year.  Color me silly, but I had just got that license before moving here, and the thought of sitting in that damn license bureau for endless hours did not seem appetizing at all, so I suppose I just kept putting it off.  That, and there’s the issue that in Utah, if you’re from out of state, you have to re-take the written portion of the examination before you can be granted a Utah license.  Bah!  As if I wanted to be subjected to that!  It’s not like anyone here in Utah follows any of the rules of the road anyway.  Why should I be tested on useless rules?  Most of Utah is endless desert.  I was skeptical that there even were any driving rules here.

After finally running out of excuses, I made my way down the the testing center slash torture chamber last week.  I researched a bit online, so I went prepared.  I had:  My old license, my social security card, two proofs of address, my mother’s maiden name, and about as much patience as I could muster up.  I was also required to produce twenty five dollars, which I did so reluctantly.  I also had to fill out a rather long form and stand in a line, all so I could get a number to wait.

I was given number 525.  Ok, let’s see… there’s a screen here somewhere saying what number they’re currently serving… where is… there it is!  They are on number 201.  201!  Are you kidding me?!  Noooo! I stared down at my number, thinking it must be some sort of joke, but no amount of wishful thinking or staring made it change, so I resigned myself to a long wait and parked it on the World’s Most Uncomfortable Plastic Chair.  It was at that point that time pretty much stopped.

I amused myself by sending a couple of text messages to friends, playing around with my phone, trying to find attractive women to stare at (no luck), watching (and loathing) the numerous giddy and ecstatic teenagers fidgeting around me, and smiling with some amusement at a handful of Mexicans who, upon receiving their test booklets which were apparently only available in English, sulked mournfully toward the testing station with apprehensive looks on their faces.  Finally, after a length of time approximately the same as the Bush administration, (both of them) my number was called and I made my way forward.

Manners are not the forte of government employees, and the licensing bureau is no exception.  I presented all of my documentation to Ms Rudy McRude, and she proceeded to take as much time as possible processing me, tapping away on her little computer and asking me stupid questions.  After taking my money, she handed me a test booklet (only available in English) along with some instructions and pointed me toward the testing station.  Finally!  Progress was being made, and I could escape this hell soon.  I just needed to get past this stupid test.

Fortunately for me, but unfortunately for other people, the tests are done on a touch-screen computer nowadays.  I say unfortunate for others, because there were a couple of older people there who looked positively lost.  I passed an old lady who stared up at her computer with a look of complete mystery, like an alien had just landed in front of her and she was required to communicate with it.  There was another exasperated-looking lady who was apparently forced to bring her kids, kids who were at that moment running up and down the isles and banging on the screens of unattended computers.  The Mexicans were still there as well, fumbling through their test booklets in kind of a panic.  I sat down at my own screen and began the quiz, using my extremely handy ability to speed read at an insane level, so questions that popped up sent me buzzing through the booklet at light-speed as I rendered the test complete in a short amount of time.  Most of the questions were pretty standard, but a couple of them sent me on a booklet-flipping spree which rivaled the Mexicans.  Even so, I managed to make quick work of it.  I tapped the “finish” button on the screen, then made my way up to the counter to claim my newly conquered prize.

Only… not.  Huh?  In Ohio, after you take the test or renew, you walk out with your new license.  In Utah, they give you a printout of a picture of your license, and tell you they’ll mail you the real deal in two weeks.  Why is that?  I sat down and took my new HEINOUS picture, (seriously, what’s with those pictures?) then waited for Ms Bitchy McBitch to mumble rude comments under her breath about stupid people while she processed my fake-looking printed-out never-gonna-fool-a-cop coulda-made-this-at-home-myself driver’s license.  I accepted my printout with a smile, and politely made my way out past the befuddled Mexicans and old people and hyper-excited teenagers to the bright sunlight and freedom.

That was my exciting experience.  I learned that you’re supposed to transfer your license within 30 days of moving to a new state, technically.  So I was a couple of weeks off.  No big deal.  The deed is done, and I’m newly licensed to drive.

Looks like about a dozen new openings in the Quorum, eh?