So, I have a boring job. I mean, really, really boring job. I also happen to have a ton of shit that I need to do to finish my home project so I can be "truly" productive (it's all about self-gratification, right?)
So I call in sick on Friday. I get a lot of stuff done and I am happy about the progress...
Guess who's deathly sick on Saturday? Yup. It's either that retard cat gave me her cold or I got her's; either way, I'm screwed. I only wish my head would feel as light as a Macy's Day Parade balloon, but I really don't need the girth, I promise. Somehow my sinuses became the most productive snot factory on Planet Earth and my lips are cracked like the surface of the Moon. And, thanks to the fact that I have no toilet paper, I have to wipe my nose with Bounty-the-Quicker-Picker-Upper. As rough as it is on your asshole, it ain't much better on your raw nose, either. Trust me, folks. But, considering the absorbant-qualities, I should be saving a few trees. HaHa - look at me - the Martyr.
Oh, and if someone else could drag another piece of 60-grit sandpaper across my larynx, I might actually pass out and get moment's peace.
In the meantime; I do not stuggle too much to remember the basics - It's Christmas time, I have people who love me, and Sudafed, Tylenol, green tea, and a nugget of grass (if I can manage to breathe long enough), are in proximity.
This is a total rip, but karma is karma.
For all you about to go out and party tonight - have fun you twisted, healthy fucksticks.
Gotta run, 'cause it's Hankie Time
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment