For the past few days, I’ve begun to leak more fluids out of my nose than all other orifices combined. A never ending supply of mucus has begun a round the clock production schedule in the ol’ factory, and here I am too weak and clogged up to picket it’s business.
Being sick always gives me this feeling of imprisonment. When I’m sick, it’s like I’ve never known anything else BUT being sick. The feeling of ‘healthy’ is more of a fairy tale than actual truth. And besides, who can concentrate on healthy when you’ve got to concentrate on not sneezing green stuff on a woman looking for a sweater and a nice pair of jeans.
Yup. In my journey to the top of the retail ladder, I’m still going to work. The only thing that gets me through the work shift is knowing that I can sleep once I get home. I was talking to Nicole about this earlier today, when she pointed out a very interesting coincidence.
This week I began taking the miracle drug. The liquid emerald syrup of the gods. Nyquil. Knowing how addictive my personality is, I’m worried I’ll become totally dependent upon it to get to sleep tonight. All I can see is me shaking in a corner, butt naked except for some boxers, shivering and wide eyed while dozens of empty Nyquil bottles lie around me like dead flies. With my tolerance for the stuff increasing by the day, it will take me a whole case of the drug to put me under for 8 hours.
Next thing you know, I’ll be robbing CVS’s and Walgreens across the New England seaboard, taking control of all their Vick’s products. Soon thereafter, my tastes will grow from the gateway drug of Nyquil and I’ll begin Robotripping. It will only be when I see on the news how an unfortunate soul lost their lives to the dangerous, underground crime world of cough syrups that I’ll truly begin to see the error of my ways.
Anywho, the Nyquil has been working wonders. In more ways than one. Nicole pointed out to me that since I’ve started my Nyquil regiment, I’ve been getting tons of interviews. Five companies within the past two days have contacted me, all wanting to sit down and meet. Maybe my overdosing of Nyquil is causing me to hallucinate these conversations, imagining up these people and places and possible career opportunities. Who knows. But since I started using the drug, my professional life has begun to take shape.
There is one negative side, though. While I am receiving job interviews and the like as a result of Nyquil [and it’s a fact, don’t debate it], I’ve been having crazy, mind tripping dreams. Two nights ago, I dreamt a lens fell out of my glasses. I had bent down to pick it up when a very large woman starting yelling at me that it was her lens. No, I told her, it is obviously mine, as I am wearing glasses SANS one lens, whereas you have no glasses at all.
I ignored her yelling and walked away. Hours later in the dream, there was a knock on my door, and there was the large woman, holding a gun to my face and demanding the safe return of her lens. I slammed the door shut, locked it and dived into the closet as she opened fire at the door. I don’t remember anything else except that she made it into the apartment and was looking for me.
Last night, I woke up long enough to yell out WHAT THE FUCK?! then immediately passed out.
I’ll keep up the Nyquil regime for a few more nights, just to see if maybe I end up getting some sort of dream job interview. But I don’t know how many more midnight hallucinations I can take.
To tell you the truth, I might not be able to kick the habit at all. I’m starting to dig the sauce.