A 22-year-old experiential education facilitator by-way-of art school, employee of an Ivy, vegetarian, procrastinator, and rock-climbing wilderness first responder living in picturesque rural New Jersey. She's holding her breath as she tests her clumsy legs post-college.
Eight days ago, all I had to eat before my paschal seder was a mango. A sweet, juicy, delicious mango.
As per usual, I peel the mango very carefully before I eat it. You see, gentle readers, I am allergic to the enzymes in the skin (we think). Thus, a complex and exhaustive carving process is utilized before I can actually consume the object of my desire.
Unfortunately, I was multi-tasking, putting together a supplement for our haggadah, and couldn't wash my hands, the knife, the mango, nearly as often as is optimal.
So, even eight days later, I am suffering from the symptoms of my bizzarely-specific allergy. The first couple days my lips were slightly tingly. As the week wore on, they became itchier. Now they are dry, swollen, cracked, numb, pale, flaky, and bee-stung. Last night I carved a fresh pineapple, and ate despite the acidic burn the tropical fruit affected on my lips.
I never was particularly great at self-denial; I should probably lay off the fresh mango from now on. But what fun would that be?