A few nights ago an allergy attack woke me up mere hours after I'd fallen asleep. For the rest of the night I lay in bed, thinking and blinking, turning the pillows around to the cool side, hating allergies first, then the ever-lovin' Longmont trains, then the rising sun blasting through the blinds, then the merrily chirping asshat birds, sitting in a tree, S-U-C-K-I-N-G.
I don't know about you, but if I get less than nine hours of sleep, I'm a hot mess the next day. That night I got about three.
As the night wore on and the sleep-deprived insanity grew, my thoughts turned to a hatchet I've lost track of and the cottonwood tree outside my window. I wanted them to meet. "I'mma go all George Washington on that sumbitch," I whispered.
"Bring it," the tree whispered back.
Shit got weird from there.
I pictured skipping around the yard, swinging the hatchet around, and "accidentally" falling into the tree, hatchet first. Five hundred times might do the trick.
Now, sure, when the landlords found out, I'd be in a smidge of trouble because like G-Dubs, I cannot tell a lie. Plus, chopping a whole tree down by myself seems like something to be proud of, am I wrong?
Am I wrong?
(Editor's Note: No, Fritz, you're just an...nevermind.)
Anyhow, as the sun grew hot, the alarm went off, and I trudged to the shower, I figured if the landlords didn't understand, I'd have science behind me: lack of sleep causes accidents. It can also cause fatness, depression, inattention, mental sluggishness, lack of sex drive, forgetfulness, old-face, death and impaired judgement.
"That's a lot of bad news for smart, beautiful people such as ourselves. Something had to be done," I would tell the judge. "I rest my case. Fritz out."
We'd high five when Her Honor ordered all cottonwood trees burned to the ground, via flamethrower. After that: margaritas!
(Editor's Note: I think you'd better take a sleeping pill tonight, Fritz.)
To say the allergies are off the charts this spring would be an understatement. And I know I'm not alone: some municipalities have actually banned female cottonwood trees. But we don't live in one of those utopias and even the Weather Underground site's pollen page admits that moving away from whatever allergen's ailing you is an "extreme solution." Until Boulder County becomes one of those meccas, I'll just be here, sneezing, looking for the Zyrtec with eyes like rubies, surrounded by my Kleenex box blast site, and wondering where my hatchet at.
Jeanine Fritz writes for the Colorado Daily every Monday.