So let me tell you about my day yesterday. I’ve had this headache which moved in a week and a half ago and evidently decided to stay – rather like acquiring an unpleasant roommate with poor personal hygiene and no respect of personal space. You really, really want him to just leave, but there he is, day in and day out, sitting on your couch playing pocket pool in grimy boxers, eating your pizza and cleaning out the liquor cabinet. That’s my headache, an obnxious fat guy who stinks of stale beer and crotch. I hate him.
Anyway, my new best friend, my headache that I have had nonstop for a WEEK AND A HALF got even worse yesterday, so I took some second-hand prescription painkillers (not mine) in hopes that it would be quiet enough to allow me to work without bleeding from the corners of my eyes. (I think it’s blood – it might be liquified brain matter for all I know. It sure feels as though my brain has turned to soup and is ready to start dripping out if I tilt my head far enough.) So, I took these pills, and then put my coat on and got part way to work before we had to pull over for me to be sick. I was really sick, the kind where you wish you were home so you could rest your head on the lovely, cool porcelain of the toilet. I throw up things that my grandmother must have eaten, I swear it went that far back in history. And finished, wiped my mouth with the little white handkerchief which was the only cloth in the car, and we drove off again. And then…
You guessed it. Vomiting part two, sans the pulling over and opening the door part. Not vomiting, but VOMITING. I’ll spare you the description of how awful it was. But if I had seen a farmer with a gun right then I would have said PLEASE SHOOT ME NOW. I AM BEGGING YOU. MY HEAD, IT IS EXPLODING AND I CANNOT LIVE LIKE THIS. But there was no damned farmer, and somehow we made it home (finally) and then do you know what I did?
I cleaned the car.
P. doesn’t do sick, or anything gross. Plus it was my mess. So I washed the car down and did my best on the inside and then I went inside and I cried.
So, the moral of the story is don’t take other people’s prescription drugs. Talk to the kids on the corner and buy smack instead, it will be a lot better for you. That’s what I’m doing next time.