Thursday, February 24, 2005
I'm cranky today. My eyes are pickled and my throat is coated in quivering little giblets of phlegm. I ate all my food groups yesterday, stayed sober, and got my requisite 7 hours of shuteye. I must need caffeine. I'm not the only one.
My coworkers are great. They enjoy bathroom jokes, sports, and making fun of customers. Just like me. But they too are are badly off kilter today. They're calling one another cuntface and spitting at each other. This whole office is suffering from a collective hangover, although none of us drank last night. As far as I know.
The fluorescent lights are all turned off, except for the emergency light above my desk. By contrast it's bleaching my hair and ears. The blinds are also shut. The darkness is perfect for soothing lurking temper tantrums and subduing simmering shit fits.
I wonder if there's a mysterious airborne illness affecting us. Perhaps the carbon monoxide detector, if we ever had one, has malfunctioned and the poisonous gas is seeping into our lungs. Eventually it will cause drooling and giggling, no doubt from a massively accelerated evaporation of brain cells, finally to result in our collective convulsive collapse into death on a dirty floor.
Maybe I can narrowly escape death and survive with only moderate damage. Soon after they'll have to buy me a cage, line it with newspaper, and feed me low grade nearly rotten raw beef in a chipped plastic bowl with "Stevie" stencilled in black spraypaint on it's side. My fevered damaged mind may see maggots and scratch my own skin from my face in dangly little wet strips, but that's best left for discussion on another day. 10:07 AM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm
A Glancing Blow
Rest In Peace, Doctor
How's My Driving?
Now I Can Whistle
Fast Food Means Fast Digestion
Newports and Milkbones
Mudflap Welcome Mat
From The Museum
From Me To You With Gut-Wrenching Terror