bekah brunstetter
Bekah Brunstetter I care deeply. About a lot of things. Like really, really deep. Ow
playwright in brooklyn, NY

Dust

November 12th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

We can’t quite sleep in our new place yet, as it’s still quite covered in dust from the ongoing renovations, and I’m allergic to dust, so we gladly spent the night in a vaguely European hotel in Glendale where I’m pretty sure amateur porn producers house new girls when the fly in from Tampa. All of this to say, I am allergic to dust.  Reflecting on it now, is that not the lamest allergy there ever was? And isn’t EVERYONE allergic to dust? Isn’t it just like being allergic to clouds or periods at the end of sentences? I’ve known it since I went to the allergist when I was ten-ish and the doctor walked in on my putting my shirt back on. I learned three things that day: shame,  that my dust allergy was mild but persistent, and that I am BASICALLY THE MOST BASIC PERSON THAT HAS EVER LIVED.

Posted in YAY, memories, silly, whining | No Comments »

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