Cairo: Thanks For All the Allergies

Well, I wondered what it was. I went to the doctor this morning and he says I'm having one big jolly respiratory allergy reaction thing. That explains why it feels like there is a pipe-cleaner in my lungs and I have the energy of a lawn ornament.

The funny thing is, I'm not really allergic to anything. Beyond my mythological reaction to penicillin, that strange thing with cod liver oil and a horrible feeling I get in my nose when I'm around cats.

The point: Cairo is to blame.

Cairo, the city that likes to pretend smog is fog, or haze. Cairo, where anything with an engine is the unfiltered cigarette of the road. Cairo, the city where Ahmed Public dives for the protection of an awning during a freak rainstorm not because he wants to stay dry, but because he knows the sky's caustic raindrops will destroy his favorite jalabeya.

Ahmed, I feel your pain.

I'd empathize more, but I have to take some drugs, skip class and moodily drift off to sleep on the wings of a perfect Perlman/Mendelsohn mind meld.