It started out like any other day... roll into work 10 min late, be disgusted with the caffeinated sludge in the lunch room, curse yourself for again forgetting the bottle of sweetened creamy dreamy vanilla stuff to make the sludge go down easier, rue the day you decided to have a cup of coffee with the gang and now are severly dependent on it by 10am every work day. Get to my desk and open the email with "another meanial project" (my bosses words exactly) that will take all day every day of this week to complete however there is no way to get to it until late afternoon due to the other pressing projects that were given via email. The cubemate is chatty, the conference room caddy corner to my adjacent cube is letting out droves of talkative types every hour on the hour, and lunch break is coming soon.
OK, so far its just a typical day in the life of a cube dweller, I'll admit. But I signed up to donate blood for the first time today. OK, is it a state secret that this should not be taken lightly??? I mean I figured to drink water and have lunch and stuff, but here I am three hours later and I still feel like my first hangover all over again - this differs from last weeks hangover only because there is the added "what in the name of damnation is going on here?" attitude. Seriously can't keep anything down, headache, woozy, skin tingling, overheating but my extremities could ice your drink, and an overwhelming wish to remember the fun that created this torture. Oh, wait, I got my finger pricked, my sex life questioned by a stuttering bimbo, half glazed looks from the guys who poke arms and clean up spills in a van all day as they shove ice paks in my shirt and tell me to cough to get some color back in my face, and after two juice cups and a cookie I am sent on my way to make it to the bathroom in my building and chuck it all up.
Yeah. I'm a hero. She tells me that next time I come in I should tell them I had a reaction and they will put my feet up from the get go. Uh, ok, yes ma'am - and I won't take it personally that you repeated it three times because I'll admit that the first two times I was swaying with my eyes closed trying to remain conscious.
Oh, I left out the part where I got my deposit back from my last place - $175 of my $600 in a personal check from former roomie after the bills were deducted (not $425). And the part when I checked my emails and got one from used-to-f*cks friend asking where I've been followed shortly thereafter by a reply from used-to-f*ck from the rant last Friday. He owned up to avoiding me, asked that I follow through on not ever communicating with him again after he points out he' s been seeing someone who takes a lot of his time (Mr. I don't want to be in a relationship because I've been single for a long time and dont' plan to change - until my favorite chick gets back into town and I don't need the look alike around to placate me anymore) and that while he wasn't in the hospital with head trauma (my assumption over the other choice - he is just that much of a wussy and will wait until I'm bored of not hearing from him rather than tell me straight) he was in jail for Another DUI. Thats right folks, I know how to pick 'um!!! Whatever, I'm just a little pissed that I thought I had a real friend and apparently I had a boyfriend and I SO thought I knew how to tell the difference by now!
I'm now safely home, glad that every day I don't fight the 5pm traffic to get away from the building complex that had me with my finger on the automatic window trigger thru all 12 red lights I waited at (there are only 8 lights between me and my work but that is how many people leave at 5pm - I caught three of them green!), in my pjs, with cold water and an ice pack to keep me from running to the toilet and pray. I know I'll eventually have to eat and that being in PJs at 5:45pm isn't a great way to show up at take out places but maybe, just maybe a roomate will come home with meatloaf and mashed potatoes leftovers and my daydreams will come true!
Not looking forward to tomorrow. Time to buy headphones if for nothing else to keep the sound of gum smacking at 4pm from driving me up the wall or into a stall with no TP. Topper I tell ya. Since I can't think of an addage about having a Case of the Tuesdays, I'll assume that I can sleep this one off and be fairly normal tomorrow, and divine if I can remember the creamer.
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