Too much info. Yet I can't look away.

THE POLLEN FORECAST FOR YOUR AREA IS VERY HIGH...[more details]

That is the message that greets me most mornings during spring and summer. It's displayed at the top of my customized Weather.com page like a beacon of misery for my sinuses.

I check this website every morning before leaving the bubble. It helps me decide what clothing to put on my body. It helps me prepare for things I may encounter later in the day (bring a jacket just in case, Chet). It either reinforces or completely rejects what the chubby TV weather guy told me was going to happen the night before --- and that makes me giggle like a prepubescent school girl all hopped up on Pop Rocks.

But most of all, Weather.com turns my many sinuses against me, which makes me utterly miserable. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Take this morning, for example. Weather.com reports that the current temperature is 77 degrees and humidity is only 52 percent. The sun is shining and, for all intents and purposes, it is shaping up to be an almost perfect weather day.

"Not so fast, Bubbleboy," the bold text at the top of the page seems to shout. "Just look at that pollen count!"

My pending joy turns to angst as my sinuses quickly don the heavy armor they deem necessary to ward off pending attacks from billions of microscopic pollen spores that will, undoubtedly, bombard my head the moment I step outside. This is the same armor that makes my head weigh 300 pounds during most of spring and summer each year. It also causes my neck to bend towards the ground when I walk --- like a dork looking for coins on the beach.

I'm shocked I don't have a dowager's hump already.

So why don't I just change my customized weather.com settings to hide the tension-brewing pollen warnings, you ask?

I could. But then I would feel so unprepared each day when leaving the house. And my sinuses would be naked, like standing in the middle of Baghdad wearing only undapants and a "I love Bush" t-shirt.

Sure it feels like I have a full-size Sherman tank jammed up in my head. But in the world of Bubbleboy, that's the way it needs to be. If I give up, then the pollen wins.

Fuckin' pollen.