Turns out, I’m not crazy.

I am clinically allergic to my husband.  The whole truth is that I have not one but THREE sensitivities that come together to make Zack & Sarah snuggle time pretty difficult.  Now, because I have no filter and would have no idea where to stop with the details, and because Zack doesn’t really like it when I spell out those details for internet consumption, I’m just going to leave the details of the allergies out of it.  Suffice to say that it is both wonderful and miserable to be diagnosed as allergic to touching my husband; it’s wonderful because it’s not a mystery anymore and miserable because there is not a hard-and-fast cure for the particular allergies with with I am dealing.  I have a long road of medicine experimenting in front of me, (and testing!) which should start sometime after my finals are over.  The medicine that was prescribed as a starter-kit has a tendency to cause drowsiness, and I can’t risk drowsiness right now.  After finals are over and I can once again use my time for things that I want to do (sleeping, watching awesome reality TV, not writing note cards) I’ll delve into the meds and see what results I get.  Until then, I’m keeping the hydrocortisone cream with me at all times.

In other, less open-ended news, our upstairs air conditioner broke over the weekend.  Zack and I avoided the 95+ degree temperatures (and the sure death it would have caused) by moving our lives downstairs, where we slept on the air mattress in the living room for a few nights.  We would literally just run up the stairs for the minimal amount of time possible, grabbing whatever it was that we required from the inferno and darting immediately back down the stairs.   The most complicated part about having the upstairs air out, though, was the fact that the whole downstairs of our house has a very open floor plan.  Open floor plans aren’t very well tailored to two people who are living by two very different sleep schedules.  Zack was exhausted all weekend, and I was tippy-toeing around his various napping areas while trying to quietly memorize the roles that MHC Class 1 Proteins have in the T-Cell driven immune response.  It’s hard to memorize The Immune System under your breath. TRUST ME.  They fixed it on Monday, and I vowed to myself as I crawled into bed that night to never again take for granted any of the following: a.) doors, b.) my mattress or c.) being able to speak my flash cards out loud while pacing and eating chips.