Unwell

This morning i woke up extremely tired and majorly sick with a slew of symptoms.

... It's called a hangover.

I got up anyway and started getting ready for work. As i sat on my bed half naked with my taupe bra resting beside me, I pondered what to put on.

Disgust rushed in. What does it matter what i wear, when my work doesn't matter? It all became very pointless, going in to work, day after day.

I just wanted to go back to bed. I called in sick. No one is even gonna miss me.

I bet if i never showed up again no one would miss me either.

I'm reminded of this silly Mel Gibson movie What Women Want. There's this unhappy mousy chick who's been contemplating suicide. She thinks to herself she's so insignificant and invisible, nobody is even gonna notice when she stops coming in to work.

Stepping in the shower hours later, i finally understood what JD referred to as being "still drunk the next day". I used to be bewildered by the concept. How could that be? Apparently it's possible to ingest so much toxin it cannot be metabolized in 12 hours.

The day did not go to waste though. I started my online traffic school course for the speeding ticket i got in March. After completing 23% of the course (somebody doesn't know the art of being succinct!), i became bored to tears and decided this was cruel and unusual punishment. So i headed over to the couch to watch some House while munching on nori maki arare. (Wasabi-flavored, of course.) This is the life!

Earlier in the day i'd managed to IM with Elsie my sis-in-law. I explained I was experiencing "flu-like symptoms" today. "And i just really didn't wanna go to work," i added.

"That's a sign it's time to look for a new job," she replied.

"I know... But I've been having chronic depression in the past two months," i typed. "So i'm sure it's not all job-related."

"I'm guessing you don't feel like getting out of the house," she said. Oh, cuz she was gonna ask me to lunch.

"No," i said. "Not today."

Then she moved right on to the next topic.

Wow. My family really does not take my condition seriously.

A few minutes later she logged off without saying bye and never came back on. My brother was on all day and never said a word. My family, ladies and gentlemen. They're the kind of folks who, when identifying a body at the morgue as next of kin, would be stunned. "I never saw it coming," they'd say.

And they wonder why i hide at times. Might as well be talking to a wall.

In the aforementioned Mel Gibson movie, his character happens to be able to hear Mousy Girl's thoughts, and saves her. Thank goodness no one hears my thoughts.