My ears ring when I'm tired or stressed, and today it's really bad. Compound that with a full blown headache and it feels like there's an army of crickets having a party inside my head. I wonder what it'd be like to party with crickets (yes we're turning surreal here, my headache is THAT bad). I'd take Pinocchio with me to the party to impress the other crickets. Hmm...the more I write about the crickets the more the ringing disappears. I might have stumbled across an unknown cure for this. I can see it now, I'll write a book and wow the medical community. They'll ask themselves why they didn't think of it before, it's so simple! My book will be titled: Surrealism: the cure for tinnitus. I'm going to be famous.
Damn, my headache just got worse.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Vuvuwhat?
There's someone on my street who's playing a vuvuzela at random. Spain nor holland has scored (we're at 68:52 and counting). I'm assuming he's A. just trying it out to see if any of the neighbors will knock on his door and punch his lights out as soon as he opens it B. channeling the people in south africa as the vuvuzela playing masses are surprisingly quiet C. checking out how far he can be heard. D. bored out of his wits because nothing is happening between Spain and Holland.
Friday, July 02, 2010
This is some scary shit
I'm having one of those days when everything is going tits up. Like part of the ceiling coming down. I feel like I should be giving an interview and saying that cliched line "There was an almighty bang and everything fell silent." Except nobody tells the reporter that after everything falls silent you have to make sure that everyone is ok when all you want to do it to sit in a corner quietly weeping while gently rocking back and forth. Or maybe they do tell the reporters and I just haven't been paying attention. The aftermath looks like we got hit by an earthquake, albeit a very precise one that only hit a part of the room. When I close the door and seal it up I can actually pretend that everything's ok. Maybe if I ignore it it'll just magically clean itself up. There are times when I wish I had a betamax rewinder (yes that pretty much gives away my age right there) and zap me back to a few seconds ago. Thank god nobody got hurt. A few scratches and bruises but everyone is generally ok. There's a huge piece of concrete on a chair where someone was sitting a few seconds before and I couldn't look at it too long. Holy fuck we are lucky.
I've been trying to remember all the shit that's happened here over the years, and this is just my third year. Alarms going off in the middle of the night. Me changing out of my pajamas and wearing mismatched shoes to go to the office to meet the police. Them asking me if I just woke up. Well yes goddamit it's 4am in the morning. I'm dedicated but not that dedicated. Us (me and mr. police) realizing that it's a false alarm and him telling me it could be worse, it could've been for real. Yes, thank god for small miracles.
A tramp shitting on the doorstep (yes I kid you not). And us having to clean it up. I won't go into too much detail. I still retch thinking about it.
Me cleaning the toilet of years worth of other people's pee (my second day on the job) because the cleaning lady couldn't be bothered to do it. I fired her. On the spot. On my second day. I'm not proud, I'm just saying, if your vacuum cleaner is on and you're pretending to clean, at least make sure the head of the hoover is on the floor.
Pipes bursting and tripping the circuits. We found out that the alarms were just there to make noise. Awesome. I feel so safe. It's been rectified. Now when our alarms go off, someone does come in 2 minutes, tops. Oh yeah, and we flooded the basement. While our downstairs neighbor was in the basement.
Me turning around and suddenly facing two police officers and almost dropping my coffee mug on the floor. They asked to talk to me in private. No, first they asked if I was the person responsible for the office. Me telling them yes, I am responsible for the office while I mentally listed all the things I thought I could go to jail for (smoking by the bus stop and jaywalking were the only two things I could think of). It wasn't me, there was a fugitive (a very dangerous criminal whom you musn't approach for any reason...AT ALL...was how they described it) and they wanted to know if he happened to pass by the office. What? For coffee? Just for a visit? No. Nada.
A lady who had a medical thing done somewhere on her body (I won't mention where, just be really really imaginative) and even after the doctors told her not to go prancing around the high street she still did. And guess where she ended up losing a pint of blood? Where else.
Like I said, this is some scary shit.
I've been trying to remember all the shit that's happened here over the years, and this is just my third year. Alarms going off in the middle of the night. Me changing out of my pajamas and wearing mismatched shoes to go to the office to meet the police. Them asking me if I just woke up. Well yes goddamit it's 4am in the morning. I'm dedicated but not that dedicated. Us (me and mr. police) realizing that it's a false alarm and him telling me it could be worse, it could've been for real. Yes, thank god for small miracles.
A tramp shitting on the doorstep (yes I kid you not). And us having to clean it up. I won't go into too much detail. I still retch thinking about it.
Me cleaning the toilet of years worth of other people's pee (my second day on the job) because the cleaning lady couldn't be bothered to do it. I fired her. On the spot. On my second day. I'm not proud, I'm just saying, if your vacuum cleaner is on and you're pretending to clean, at least make sure the head of the hoover is on the floor.
Pipes bursting and tripping the circuits. We found out that the alarms were just there to make noise. Awesome. I feel so safe. It's been rectified. Now when our alarms go off, someone does come in 2 minutes, tops. Oh yeah, and we flooded the basement. While our downstairs neighbor was in the basement.
Me turning around and suddenly facing two police officers and almost dropping my coffee mug on the floor. They asked to talk to me in private. No, first they asked if I was the person responsible for the office. Me telling them yes, I am responsible for the office while I mentally listed all the things I thought I could go to jail for (smoking by the bus stop and jaywalking were the only two things I could think of). It wasn't me, there was a fugitive (a very dangerous criminal whom you musn't approach for any reason...AT ALL...was how they described it) and they wanted to know if he happened to pass by the office. What? For coffee? Just for a visit? No. Nada.
A lady who had a medical thing done somewhere on her body (I won't mention where, just be really really imaginative) and even after the doctors told her not to go prancing around the high street she still did. And guess where she ended up losing a pint of blood? Where else.
Like I said, this is some scary shit.
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