I Like My Friends More Than I Like My Cat. And Yet...

It has come to my attention that a great many of my dear friends are unable to visit my home because they're horribly allergic to cats, & I have a cat. Remember this dude?

As testing recently revealed, I, too, am allergic to cats, though not deathly so. My doctor confirmed that my allergy is likely lessened by my owning a cat, & it's possible I'm no longer so allergic - to mine, at least, though maybe still to others.

I'm just bummed. Like, bummed to the point of anger. Because what are Claritin & Zyrtec & Allegra & inhalers for if not to fix this crap? Why doesn't any of that stuff actually work? Get your act together, pharmaceuticals!

I'd been trying so hard lately to like it here, & I've even begun to. Victory! I really hoped that when spring & summer rolled around, the local festivals & our proximity to the beach would lure visitors, & I could share my newfound love - OK, like - of the Jersey Shore with the people I love. And now? Now at least six - no exaggeration, six - of my closest friends have told me they can never set foot in my apartment because it will hinder their ability to, like, live.

Look, don't get me wrong. I'm absolutely not mad at any my friends. I understand allergies; if my friends lived inside oak trees, I would never visit them, either! It's not like anyone chooses to have respiratory problems. I'm not mad at them - but I'm just kind of mad, period. I really thought I'd found a great, beachy loophole that I could use to entice folks to visit... & now I can't. Because breathing & shit.

Guess I shouldn't waste my money on buying a bed for that guest room, huh? Womp.

PS: Sorry for this angry rant. Sometimes you've just gotta yell it out.
PPS: Any of you allergy-free folks want to come to the beach this summer?