Remember that commercial for V8 where the whole world is tilted? "Should've had your V8!" Not one of my favorite drinks, but the advertisement came to mind after April & I took these pics.
I don't know that words will do justice to the rampage that presented itself as my life last Friday, but here we go in an attempt.
* Wake up sicker than haydes & already 15 mins past the time that I'm supposed to be at work. What does this mean? CALL IN!
* Stumble into the bathroom to take a long hot shower to clear my head, only the switch produced no light, merely the empty clicking of a route uninhibited by electrical current. What? Thought ... process ... not ... coherent ... only .... severe .... pounding. Back to bed. FLOP
* Awake again just after Noon. Text roommate WHY DON'T WE HAVE ELECTRIC? DID YOU PAY THE BILL?? YOU NEED TO DUMP THAT GUY, HE'S SUCKING YOUR MONEY DRY & I WANT TO SHOWER!! Receive text back: car wreck, block is out.
* Phone battery dead. Plug it in. Hmmmmm, doesn't work so well when no current is flowing, much like my thought process for the day.
* Decide to push myself out the door for a bike ride to clear my head & stimulate my body. Agony. Every. Mile.
* Finally make it to the bike shop nearly 10 miles away (normally that trek would have been a breeze, Friday I felt like I was pedaling into a hurricane -- inside my head). My bike wheel shakes like the Beast at Six Flags. They don't have time, bring it back tomorrow.
* Stop at my favorite coffee shop for a smoothie & a leak. Within 15 minutes I discover my bike --- stolen. I'm not excited. At this point I'm stranded 10 miles from home but in so much misery that I don't even have the energy to be pissed. I do hope the wobbly bike wheel throws your punk rotten ass into the river.
* Fuk it. I'm gonna drag my ass the 9 blocks to Derek's new tatt shop & get some ink I've been craving. Ink makes the pain disappear. His new printer & scanner seem non-cooperative & thwart my attempts at happiness.
* Shuffle around the park with April after she rescues me, only to have my trackball jump right outta my phone into a dozen pieces, gone. No trackball. Just an empty hole where my phone's soul leaked out. I now have 8 myspace alerts, 6 facebook alerts, and 143 emails & text messages. All unread. Taunting me with the first two or three words of each, giving me a peek, yet withholding all the juicy details contained in each message.
* My head still pounding like Thomas the Train invited the entire cartoon clan to freight race through my neurons.