apropos of anything

Some days you wake up and think, “Wow, I don’t know if I can manage to go to work today.” But you have to go because there are deal deadlines and Ivan will think you’re shirking if you don’t show up on the day you’re supposed to clean out the fish tank.

So you hie yourself to work, looking like something the cat dragged in after a night out in Hurricane Frances, and you sit down and try to focus, except you really don’t feel well, and that’s all you can think about. Well, that and vomiting. You remember you’re supposed to call your aunt who is in the hospital due to complications from her cancer, so you talk to her for ten minutes, and she is so cheerful and upbeat despite all the pain she must be in, and you feel like pond scum for thinking you feel bad when people who have it much worse aren’t sitting around complaining.

Just as soon as you get off the phone though, you feel much worse, like you could vomit any second. You remember there is a well-stocked medicine cabinet in the breakroom, and while you’re not sure you can make it there, you don’t want to send Ken or Ivan because they might not get the right stuff. When you make it back, you’re fairly certain you’re going to vomit, but Ken doesn’t want you to vomit in his vicinity, so he shoves you into Ivan’s cube, where Ivan kindly lets you sit and offers you a trash can, the sight of which makes you want to vomit even more.

You finally manage to swallow the pills you have decided to take with hot chocolate because when you want to gulp something down, it’s always best to make sure said something is steaming as much as possible. In a few minutes, they start to kick in, and you slowly begin to feel better. Soon you feel nothing because the drugs at work are so strong the painkillers numb every nerve in your body.

Then you read a story about how President Bush is leading the polls in key swing states Florida and Wisconsin, and you want to vomit all over again. Also to move to Canada.

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