Remember when you were little and sick how your Mom spoiled you? You'd lie in bed watching cartoons while she plied you with soup and ice-cream and jello. If you were really sick she'd wipe your face with a cool washcloth and fret and worry over you. Man I miss those days!
While I was asleep last night, a slime monster crawled up my nose and lodged in the top of my head. I woke up with snot oozing out of both nostrils and an invisible band is being tightened around the top of my head. My eyes feel like they’ve been French fried and my throat has been sandpapered. In other words, I'm sick and I feel like warmed-over shit.
I stopped by First Aid on the way into the plant to score some free drugs. I signed in but was so woozy-headed that I couldn’t remember my department number (which I know as well as I know my own name). Major Brain Fart! You have to have that number for everything.
So I'm standing there, slightly wobbly, holding the ink pen and trying to remember while the medic is holding a handful of drugs WHICH I NEED right in front of me but won't let me have them because I'm so sick I can't remember a blasted 3 digit number. Damn Tease! I finally had a memory flash, wrote down the required number and snatched the drug packets before the Med Nazi took them back.
Now I'm parked here at work sneezing and snorting and blowing my nose. The slime monster is starting to move down my throat and into my chest. Sorry ass cheap drugs, I need some industrial strength stuff! The guys are staying on the other side of the room and making the sign against the evil eye every time I get close to them.
I want to go home and go to bed with a hot toddy and someone to tell me that I'll get better soon. 4 more days, I'll get a day off on Friday, if I live that long.
Send tissues, whiskey, and good drugs. I need a care package.
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