april 3, 2001. I stayed home from school today to go to the allergy doctor. I've been waiting for this appointment for 3 months, so it seemed appropriate to miss some field experience even though I'm right smack in the middle of a novel unit. As I got ready to leave the house, I realized that I was missing a crucial bit of information: I had no idea how to get to the clinic. Sure, I've been there before - in the passenger seat of the car. I had a vague idea where to go, but I didn't want to trust my directional memory. My spatial intelligence is questionable, to say it kindly. To this end I stopped in at the rental office to get some direction. The super was more than accommodating, as she always is. (I love living here, wrecked linoleum floor notwithstanding.) I was no more than 5 minutes down the street when our downstairs neighbor pulled up beside me and asked if I wanted a ride. Eastern hospitality: it's not just for vacation brochures anymore. I had left so much time to walk that I was a half-hour early for my appointment, and the office was still dark & silent. I amused myself with Canadian Time, as I had idiotically forgotten to bring along any work (when you're an English teacher, all novel reading becomes work. It's very handy when you're deeply involved in a trashy Peter Straub novel, as I am. "Honey, can you help…" "Shh. I'm working.") The allergy doctor was utterly charming, so much so that I almost failed to notice her lightening-like proficiency. Within 5 minutes I was sitting across a desk, marked with labeled tape and waiting for the scratches to begin. Thank God it was nothing like the TB test - painful, ugly and worrying, that was. When she had finished scratching me up, she introduced me to all the toys I could play with while the allergens did their thing. It's very rare that an adult will enthusiastically encourage me to play with toys as if I was a small child; I was left laughing joyously as she hurried out of the consulting room. Funny thing, the geometrical puzzles really did keep my mind of the developing itch. My results were not as happy. I have a mild hardwood allergy (???? who knew?) and two major allergies: dust and cats. I must have just developed the cat allergy in the last couple of years, because I hung around all number of cats as a kid with no noticeable results. It does explain my unhappiness in the Entropy Apartment, though - that place was a filthy pit of dust and hair after the 2nd month, even if you ignore all the dust that was created when the bathroom ceiling fell in. And it does explain why I started my sneezing career on my honeymoon: the Boy's grandparents' house is full of old upholstery and has housed a long line of cats up to the present day. It's not even that big of a deal, apparently you grow used to cat dander over time. We're supposed to keep kitty out of the bedroom at all times and buy a better vacuum. Also, keeping the house cleaner would be beneficial, I think. No more leaving the house unvacuumed for 2 months at a time! No more cat-hair buildups in the upholstery (clean up will be one of the Boy's new jobs. The best part is, I can't do it because it'll just set me off. Sweet!) The only part I'm confused about is Marlowe, the kitten we just adopted. I can think of many reasons to go through with the adoption - he's a short-hair, I'll be building up resistance during this period no matter what and Ceilidh's only five and just might outlive him anyway. But the sensible part in me - the part that stops me from installing ICQ on the computer and knows not to eat sour cream 5 days after the due date (in other words, the voice of my mother) - tells me to smarten up. There is absolutely nothing logical about adopting a kitten 2 months after I get a positive cat allergy test. And if I regret it later, what will I do then? I can't give him to my family; they think we're crazy for getting a second cat in the first place. Every person in the Boy's family either has a cat already or is living in some circumstance where cats are unacceptable (pet budgies, for instance). Where's the magic 8 ball when you really need it? The snow has started up again this week. Honest to god, I'm starting to think that spring doesn't exist in this part of the word, that it's just a marketing ploy dreamed up by travel agents. The time change was pretty upsetting, but the constant snowfall is nearly maddening. Won't I ever get to teach in my kicky spring dresses? Huh?