Burnt Tires Wrapped in Toast

Yesterday, when I was trying to figure out how to stretch the $19 in my checking account into a weekend in Orlando, I obviously had forgotten about Wino Wednesday. I know, I know, I haven’t really been carrying on the tradition, but I decided that since my day was intense and ridiculous, I was getting back on track. Off the wagon, that is.

Monday, I had an acupuncture appointment so I left work at 2. I was home by 3:30 and was convinced that I was getting an ear infection. And because I am a doctor (what? You didn’t know?) and I can diagnose myself, I decided that I would beg for some antibiotics from a friend who’s daughter couldn’t take them, come home and take a Tylenol PM, and pass out for a good thirteen hours. So, that’s exactly what I did. I was asleep by 5pm on Monday night. Afternoon. Whatever.

Anyway, yesterday was a long day that ended with a pounding headache and little desire to be awake, so I decided to try the PM method again only this time, it was a little after nine, so I just took one. Nothing. So I took another around ten. In minutes. Me = Snoring.

I had a bunch of crazy dreams in which I won two vehicles, was shown a video demonstration of why L didn’t like JGJ and thought he might be the antichrist, brought my vibrator to a wedding ceremony in which I was the maid of honor, and may or may not have been running from the police. And when I got to work today, I was groggy but did not have a headache. FOR THE FIRST TIME IN OVER A WEEK.

Until…

The office caught on fire.

Luckily, it was just about my break time, so I went over to the other side of the room and lit my cigarette on the pile of burning rubble.

Okay…no I didn’t. But I would have.

Anyway…EVIDENTLY, one of the belty things in the air conditioner in my office caught on fire. (Most likely because Susie Sunshine insists on keeping it –42 degrees in there…but I digress…) It produced the most putrid smell. The only way to describe it was like…burning tires, wrapped in toast. (Breakfast of Champions.) And even after spending 45 minutes outside in the hall, the smell had not gone away. In fact, when I tried to walk in to turn my phone off, I couldn’t even breathe. But I did learn that SS has asthma. Because she said it 874 fucking times. After about 357, I said, “Hey SS…do you have asthma?!” (Insert exaggerated Valley Girl expression here.) Obviously, she is a little too dim to know when to shut up. I can’t believe that they let fuckwits like THIS become nurses. (Please, God, don’t ever let me be in her care, I promise never to drink again…Burrrrrp.)

By the end of the day, the front of my skull was threatening to pop off and I was in a pretty foul/restless/bitter mood. So…Wino Wednesday is back, ya’ll.

Woot!

Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: "Brian Wilson"- Barenaked Ladies