Fucking allergies...
I hate fucking allergies. And I hate that no one seems to take me seriously. I'm oozing out my nose and my eyes and my brain feels like someone turned out the lights and poured gelatin in there or something cause I can't think, and when I say that cat is the worst thing that's happened to me, all Steve says is "yeah well it's a new thing every week." It's not a new thing every week, and that cat is probably the reason I got tonsillitis and was out of work for 4 days, especially considering I've never had tonsillitis before, and you get tonsillitis by your tonsils getting infected, often with mucus or snot drainage from your nose. This cat has caused tons of drama between Steve and I, because I get allergies and start reacting to it all the damn time. And he gets all pissy at me for getting concerned about the cat being around. WHY THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I'M CONCERNED. It's not fucking pleasant to have allergies. It might be all cute and stuff to you that I'm incapacitated but it's living hell for me. Especially cause I love the damn cat, and don't want Pat to have to get rid of it. And I'm not in the place that I can tell him he has to get rid of it. It's going to wonderfully whenever I fucking move in too. I won't be able to go downstairs to do laundry, and cat dander will get upstairs anyway even if the cat is kept downstairs. Unless no one opens the door to downstairs, and the air vents are all covered from downstairs, and the space of wall open behind the fridge is fixed, and Pat never comes upstairs, then I'm going to have problems. I'm fucking allergic, and it fucking sucks. And I don't know why he says it's a new thing every week when it's only when I'm over at his house and the fucking cat is around. At least that's been the main thing for more than a month. Fuck I am so pissed. Why doesn't he understand?