a poetic tale about dander.
it's gross. really, really gross. and it's making me sick.
i'm allergic to pet hair. and dust.
but still i press on - hiding my white flag in a secret place i hope to forget.
and i clean. and scrub. and wash my hands. then clean some more.
and then wash. my hands. again.
rinsing the dander down the drain.
because the other option is get rid of the pets.
which is neither a reality nor a possibility.
because i love them (both) too much.
so i'll rage on in the battle of sinuses versus dander and hair and dust.