Swimmy Headed Apologies

Every day since Monday I have intended to post.  I swear, I have.  There are a few saved drafts, an idea or three that weren't captured quickly enough and seem to have run off to Mexico to loll in the sand (or maybe they were murdered by drug lords; either way they don't appear to be coming back to me), random pretty turns of phrase that never quite went anywhere, and whole mess of fragmented thoughts that can't make it out of my head and onto this goshdarned computer screen.

Why?

Well, at the risk of grossing you out entirely, the short--and true--answer is that they are drowning in the sea of mucus that is my head.  Every thought I have, every word I speak, every attempt to impose cohesive narrative upon this messy muck that is life, is struggling mightily to swim through a sticky vat of snot to reach the outside world.  And mostly, they are failing.  My ideas ain't got nothin' on my sinuses this week.  Sorry 'bout that.  I am sincerely hoping to rejoin the world of regular posting, as well as nasal breathing, ears that hear and don't pop, and a brain that thinks quickly, like moving through air, rather than v-e-r-y, v-e-r-y slowly like swimming through molasses, very, very soon.  Yesterday would work for me, although the cruel gods of allergies, sinus, and vengeance upon my poor soul do not seem to agree.

I've already sacrificed several potentially beautiful posts to these gods, not to mention countless minutes of work time while I suffer silently, staring blankly at my computer with my box of kleenex, weighing the benefits of leaving early to go home and sleep while my son is at the babysitter's against the cost of hours subtracted from my next check but not the babysitter's payment.  Alas, I have stayed at work every day, although at what good to anyone I can't imagine.

If you've heard underground tales of successful sinus removal surgery, please let me in the secret scoop!  After this winter I would gladly give up my sense of smell (after all, I haven't experienced it much anyhow), in return for freedom from the achy head and disgusting drainage of the past few months.  Perhaps sinuses are like tonsils?  If I were only rid of them I would not miss a thing but the suffering they have caused?  One can only hope.  And, in the meantime, sleep.  Which is what I'm going to do now.  I wish you nasal passages, clear and dry, and thoughts with unfettered access to air, so they may bloom into sentences, paragraphs, and even posts.  Perhaps I will dream of such a paradise!  Goodnight, all!