The Trouble with Dating Thyself

So here's something that's probably pretty obvious, but heck, people don't notice things, maybe I read off as more experienced than I am, or like some kinda borderline nun rather than, well anything I am. 

That is to say, I don't date. No, I don't mean I call it courting, I mean that I've never quite felt the need or desire to go out with anyone for a romantic appointment. To be fair, part of this is the financial bracket I'm a part of, that being, poor enough to learn small pan fat rendering. 

Which considering the steps you can find open source is pretty much not a thing anyone does for any other reason, just saying the kind of person who sets up a homesteaders blog is deciding to be financially conscious, they might not be in perfect standing, but there are certain things I feel are true when your tallow rendering steps don't start with "well first I skimmed a soup I was already making."

I'm probably not being fair, but second-process is a big thing in my life!

Anyway, this is probably a bit much to get through if I'm just gonna say "I don't date losers, and guess what you are?" So what the heck am I getting at?

Well, I mean, the title is accurate for me. No I'm serious, and also my mom signed off on this as a perfectly legitimate fill option if I wanted to be completionist this week of all weeks.

And honestly she's not wrong, I can spend hours by myself, drafting things to sew, or sewing things to draft, or writing. And usually I enjoy something only I would, like a show I could take apart or again writing like this.

But this is really the one that makes the most sense to bring up. I'd been having a lovely late night while my mom was asleep, I had my computer on, and I'd had too much coffee probably. It was before my nephew's birth, or my sister's wedding, but I'm not certain what else had gone on. 

I don't remember what I'd been writing, but a habit I remember from then was writing about what I was eating, and that night it was a lot of things.

You see, my sister's had gotten us fruit-cheese, crackers and well, all sorts of other things, but the fruit-cheese was my favorite, they'd gotten me the cranberry and mango stuff and it was so excessively yummy, but I had a habit of well, being slow with things like that I was still making headway though. 

I'd also decided on some proper protein in the form of a few kinds of nuts, specifically peanut butter, pine nut butter, and maybe actual peanuts.

You might have questions about the pine nuts, but that in particular was a part of research. You probably need explanation, I've been trying to write caveman and dinosaur schlock for reasons, and things were very different back than, mainly in that some things didn't really exist yet, just like people didn't really(in fact the modern mammal-form molar was fairly recent also) but there are so few actually edible sounding things that don't have a flower type pollination method nowadays, except pine trees and their nuts. 

And here's the thing, those are good nuts if you can believe it! Honestly funky, with a greener flavor than the sometimes red tasting peanut, I'd tried them more than once before, but this was a fairly large serving thinking back.

I remember how salty they were, and how few pine nuts I had to make the butter with.

But in light of the actual prompt you're probably wondering what the hell could happen unexpectedly while I'm drafting into the night to the dulcet tones of the Incredible Hulk theme song, or more recently any version, save the comic, of the Tick.

Well you see, I remember this night very well because despite being very aware of my body's reactive tendencies I hadn't been expecting any kind of allergies. You see I'd taken my Claritin at the beginning of the night and I'd felt great for a long few hours

But with a sudden sense of foreboding I couldn't look at what I'd been reading and laughing at, I was just suddenly after having eaten some of my meal, terrified.

And sad, and scared. My ribs felt distant from my lungs, and my lungs felt tight in a way I associated with asthma, I'd actually assumed at first that between that and a cold snap that I'd need to sleep soon. 

I'd had a sudden thought, that the world was going to end, and worse I was going to be nauseous during. And which point I chose with weak abdominals and worse knees to barf profusely into the toilet, relinquishing basically everything I'd eaten with the grace of a depressed flu sufferer. But I was still terrified, my skin was going numb like an eczema itch, without that all important need to scratch, I was cold, and I didn't want to wake up my mom 'cause it seemed unfair to do so at all.

I honestly thought I shouldn't bother over this, there's only so many options ya-know? I felt congested but I wasn't sure about the options we had in the cabinets either.

This had started at about 7, and by the time I woke my mom up about it it was 12 and I'd apparently looked noticeably stricken, with the striping of veins making me look even with her failing vision a bit bad. According to her it was borderline anaphylaxis if anything, and if that's a fraction of the feeling then I'm really questioning the great design.

In any case we skipped out on going to the hospital on account of it not exactly being so, it was small potatoes for big prices, so instead of waiting on that kind of expensive assistance I got myself cleaned up and out in the shower before I was offered two Benadryl instead, with observation in the main living area since the leather couch could be considered more cleanable than your average bed on a weekday.

It would be over a month before my mom would feel I was in the clear, and until then it was clockwise Benadryl and bland low-reactive foods with occasional reintroduction to try and weed out the culprit.

Dating is all about getting to know somebody, and the major risk of dating yourself is learning belatedly that you are in fact allergic to pine nuts.

In any case, I'm glad it wasn't the peanuts.