Goodbye week, it’s been real. How was you guys’ week? Mine was…well…
Imagine this, if you will.
It’s Tuesday morning, 8:30am, and you’re running late. You’ve got a meeting 20 minutes outside the city and even with go-go gadget helicopter arms you’d still be 10 minutes late. So, you down a handful of vitamins and an antibiotic you’ve been prescribed and run out the door, eyeing a banana on your way out (you’ll pick something up later, you tell yourself). You get in the car, NPR’s on and they’re talking about Hilary Clinton coming to SF. You pass the toll booth and hand the attendant a crisp new $5 bill, reminding yourself once again to a buy a dang fast pass because you’d rather not see how much you’re actually spending on bridge tolls. Then it hits you…a wave of nausea. ‘Huh, that’s weird‘, you think to yourself briefly. You keep going at a smooth trot towards your destination, the traffic isn’t that bad surprisingly. You’re approaching the bridge. Now they’re talking about the Islamic state on NPR. And it hits you again, a stronger wave of nausea. ‘What the crap man‘ you say out loud while holding back a gag.
Then you remember taking THOSE vitamins/antibiotics and forgoing THAT banana. Be cool, you tell yourself, you’re almost there. Just gotta make it over the bridge. You switch the station from NPR because suddenly talk radio is just making it worse. You need something upbeat. La la la not going to puke la la la.
You’ve made it to the bridge and can judge it’ll just be about 15 minutes until you get to where you’re going. Then it comes again, this time it’s a tidal wave of nausea. Traffic comes to a stand still, picks up a little, only to stall again. No no no no. There’s no fighting it. It’s happening. You mouth is wet with saliva pooling at the back of your throat. Palms are sweaty (mom’s spaghetti). Nooooo. That’s it. You pull over, yank the Emergency brake (surprisingly well thanks to all the swan arms you’ve been doing), throw your four ways on in the middle of the bridge, get out, and puke off the bridge in front of all the other fellow morning commuters on said bridge. Yep, you did it. It happened.
‘Alright‘, that wasn’t that bad…’, you try to convince yourself while returning to your car (dignity not intact) and actively avoiding eye contact with other drivers around you. To avoid tossing your cookies again, you need food. Any food. So you do it. Yeah you do it. You get over the bridge and hustle it straight to McDonald’s drive-thru and order an egg and cheese biscuit. Message received, stomach…here, have an incredibly processed biscuit. You arrive late to your meeting and contemplate explaining why you were late, then think about how it might sound. You know…that whole just puked off a bridge, went and got an egg and cheese biscuit… like, rather not.
Then later, you find out that the Landcruiser of your dreams needs a new engine and for a moment you consider selling your kidney on the black market to offset impending costs (you really only need one).
Adios fourth week of February 2015, see you again never. What can you do? Laugh about it, that’s what. And cry a little. Just kidding.
Hope your week was tuned to a different frequency than mine…have a rad weekend!
Would you? (I would)
A good quote for creative people
Made me laugh – Life in San Francisco
Tiny houses to rent on Airbnb
Alright really, what color is this dress?
Above photo of Francoise Hardy found here.