I am foggy in the brain pan. I feel like Vince Noir just had a party upstairs.
Yesterday was a real corker. The World’s Vilest Human is up to her usual cunning tricks. I am legally bound to abstain from the details, but surely you can relate. Hasn’t everyone had some Prof. Moriarty type figure in their lives at one time or another, forever throwing a hissing cartoon bomb through the window of your sanity, or shoving you off a cliff?
My current arch nemesis lobs her flaming bags of poo through the email, and such a case of ire ensued yesterday that I got into a pointless disagreement and took off at a furious clip on my bicycle, at a speed a little antisocial for the Kent St. bike lane on a Sunday. The exercise had a calming effect, but left me with a terrible headache. I took 2 ibuprofen and went to sleep.
Today I have been unable to keep my eyes open all day. My work is not exacly designed for wakefulness, but outright narcolepsy is unusual. Suddenly I remembered (about as suddenly as the oil drifts to the top of a lava lamp, actually) that the only painkillers I have at home (apart from my emergency hope chest of vicodin and klonipin, bless you darlings) are ibuprofen PM, of which I merrily gulped down 2 according to directions. I did not take my hobbit size into account, sadly, or the fact that I never take the stuff so probably have no resistance. I nodded off right into my shaved parmesan arugula! I can see Obama tut-tutting at me, for I am a disgrace.
Let this be a lesson to you people. Take pills for pleasure, not for business, never follow directions, and make sure it is the Professor who goes over the falls and not you. It makes for much better tv. Oh, I don’t know, either. But if you have a good story about *your* arch nemesis, please tell us about it. Especially if it is going badly.
Arch Nemesis: 1