I came home from work sick.
I'm not actually sure what's wrong, but I knew that if I didn't get out, and get out quickly, something bad was going to happen. Perhaps I was going to start bleeding out my eyes. So I faked a stomach cramp, as directed by "Ferris Bueller," licked my palms, and told my boss I was going to die, to which she replied, "okay, bye."
It's stress, I'm sure. Java's is starting to slowly kill me, I think. Rather, not Java's, but things associated with Java's. Drama. Drama. Drama. Things not worth talking about.
I really did feel sick. I've been feeling a little pukey for awhile now. I think maybe it's my diet, which currently consists of:
*One bag sour-cream-and-onion potato chips (Lays, of
course)
*Two Milky Way Midnight bars (the ones with the dark chocolate?)
*One package of chocolate-covered hazelnuts
*cup of whatever soup Java's is serving
*three gallons of coffee (or, on days when I have no access to decent coffee, Diet Pepsi)
*Bailey's.
I don't feel good.
The true test of what's wrong with you involves only one substance: Pepto-Bismol. Contrary to popular belief, Pepto Bismol is not a medication. Pepto Bismol is the stomach's version of a home pregnancy test. The pregnancy test tells you whether or not you're going to have a baby. The Pepto Bismol tells you whether or not you're going to barf.
How does this work, you ask?
If you can get the Pepto Bismol down without retching, you're going to live and it's not likely you'll barf.
In order to influence the test a little (the way a woman might pee onto the side of the pregnancy test instead of down the middle, in order to coerce it into saying something else), I drank the Pepto imagining myself back at college drinking Tequila Rose with my friends. I passed with flying colors. No barf. Must just be stress.
Perhaps something to do with the fact that my entire play is gone.
Or that I didn't get paid for the work I performed last week.
Or that I haven't eaten anything all week that hasn't been crap.
Or that David signed off instant-messanger before I could say goodbye. (That's okay though. I'll forgive him. It's probably "Roswell" night on the WB or something.)
Or that my cat just ran headfirst into a wall. What the hell? What am I doing wrong? My kitty is trying to kill herself? Gahd, I am a shitty parent. Less than a week she's been here, and already she's trying to off herself?
Or hormones... Hormones are always stressy...
Ohhhhhhh, I just want to feel better...
Somebody tell me a story?
~H.T.*