I'm late. I slept right through the infernal alarm clock that was blaring (I'm guessing, based on the weird just-waking-up dreams) Buddy Holly's Peggy Sue among other "oldies". I find it's better to wake to music that there's an off chance I might actually like rather than some shock-jock wanna-be giggling about fart jokes. Yeah, Denver is really grown up in the radio DJ scene, I tell ya.
Okay, so I really hate it when the radio station I wake up to plays anything by Tom Jones. I admit that get's me flying out of bed to cross the room and shut the music off, but if that's all I was looking for, I'd leave it set to the fart-joke channel.
Anyway, I'm late. I'm also congested. Well, half congested & half running actually. It's bad enough when your damn nose doesn't know if it wants to run like Niagra or stop up like Crazy Glue. It's truly a sad state of affairs, however, when one nostril goes the Niagra route and the other nostril attempts... nay, succeeds in its quest to solidify.
Did I mention that I carpool to work? No? Well, I do. I call my ride & tell him to pass me by. Catch: He's already in the driveway. Fuck. Okay, rapid PBA bath & hair/tooth brushing, dressed (matching socks even) & I'm out the door in ten minutes. I'm sure I'll be castigated for mentioning how much I love being a man, but what the hell.
So I'm at work getting my caffeine buzz on when I've finally had enough of the nostrildammitallus & take some Tylenol Cold (non-drowsy). Big. Mistake. My fingers are all tingly. My nose is battling the Tylenol. Serious battling; I feel the cartilage in there ... adjusting with each chemical volley to counter the other. So much for the blood donation today I suppose.
Coworker has been struggling with math. He's taking an Algebra course and was having trouble with a two variable problem. His solution? Just eliminating the letters makes it much easier. :groan: He'll probably be promoted, too.
Stevie Ray Vaughan, Rude Mood
Where are we going? And why are we in this handbasket?
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