My House is Trying to Kill Me

Peanut butter is the answer.

It’s month thirteen of the pandemic. My house is trying to kill me. It’s working to expel us from the premises.

Because I’m indoors all the time, I’m now allergic to it. My eyes are bloodshot, itchy, and water — all the time. My nose is a faucet. Flonase is a necessary part of my morning ritual.

There’s also a phantom smell emanating from our laundry area. I figure it’s probably the…