Monday, January 23, 2006

Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me

The weekend went as expected. Now I'm back at work sore in all the right places and hurting everywhere else. Here's a rundown of my morning thus far:

6:30 a.m. - Alarm goes off for the fourth time. Throw alarm clock across room.

6:31 a.m. - Cord remains plugged into socket and lays neatly across my throat - choking me. Oddly enough, it's enough to wake me up.

Note to self: Strangulation Alarm Clocks - possible big seller (additional applications in the autoerotic asphyxiation market?!?)

6:32 a.m. - Lay completely still until waves of nausea subside.

7:30 a.m. - Finally in decent enough shape to emerge from under the covers.

7:31 a.m. - Step out of bed. Discover gravity still works. Crawl to bathroom.

7:45 a.m. - Recall that I once read that hangovers are a sign of dehydration.
Problem: Stomach not likely to hold down liquids.
Possible solution: Stay in the shower until I soak up enough water to move at more than a sluggish pace. I should be fine if I stay here until Thursday.

8:30 a.m. - Ready to leave home. Down a few aspirin and handful of tic tacs. Also a piece of gum. Can't be too careful.

8:32 a.m. - Walk to train through a driving rainstorm. Keep head tilted up and mouth open in a pathetic effort to ingest more fluids.

9:00 a.m. - The........ subway........ride........is........going........to........kill........me. People are actually edging away from me and towards the homeless guy at the other end of the car.

9:10 a.m. - Subway stops in tunnel. Pass time thinking that they really should have a monorail reserved for people in my condition. Quiet ride, dim lights, private insulated cabins. Make another note to self to suggest this to the MTA.

10:00 a.m. - Arrive at work. Receive compliments on my new look. Said "look" consists of glasses and a two-day stubble - the result of eyes refusing to open wide enough to admit contact lenses and hands not steady enough to shave.

10:30 a.m. - First meeting of the week. I hate Mondays with the white hot intensity of a thousand blazing suns.

10:45 a.m. - Politely asked to leave room. Apparently It's considered bad form in the business world to dry heave during a meeting.

10:50 a.m. - Slumped back at my desk surrounded by three cups of coffee and six bottles of water.

10:53 a.m. - Trying to decide if suicide is the way to go.