Why does this kind of shit happen to me?
Tuesday I spent most of the day thinking I was having a stroke or that I had been roofied by a co-worker. Either logical option seemed equally as terrifying.
Myself and a co-worker, who I will lovingly refer to as the perv from here on out, had to give a presentation to a bunch of colleagues in Bozoville. This whole mess started as got to Bozeville and stopped for lunch. As I got out of the car, I felt very strange, like I had taken WAY too much dramamine. Throughout lunch, I couldn’t stop giggling, everything the perv said was so totally HILARIOUS. The perv decided to kill an hour looking around Bozoville’s finest thrift stores, not my idea of fun, but I was in no shape to argue. I had, at this time convinced myself that I was just nervous for the presentation. Somewhere in house wares, I found myself giggling at the ridiculousness of the hand painted horse wall hanging, there was no other explanation, I was totally stoned. I had no idea how this had happened. In Salvo caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror, my eyes were halfway open, bloodshot and I was weaving back and forth while attempting to stand still. I hadn't done any drugs, could it have been the terrible muffin I had for breakfast? My mind raced back and forth, well staggered around like a drunk on St. Patty’s day, trying to figure out what in the hell had happened to me?
I made it though my presentation, but BARELY. I had cottonmouth, I got totally side tracked and at one time in the presentation, reality completely escaped me - who in the hell knows what I was talking about. The audience laughed a few times, but who is to say whether they were laughing with me, or at me. It was like an out of body experience.
The drive home was misery. I was totally paranoid. . . . I kept telling myself that as soon as I got home, it would get better, it didn't. Thank god blog princess allykh came over to monitor my cooking - I am quite sure that without supervision, I would find myself standing in the basement staring blankly at a wall wondering where all that smoke was coming from. By the time hubby got home from duck hunting, I was in a panic. I had totally convinced myself that this was either a stroke or I had MS. I called my mom, told her that I loved her and passed out – it was 8:30 PM. Hubby was instructed to wake me up occasionally to make sure I was still alive. I think he did - who knows.
The following day, I overheard a conversation between to of my co-workers.
BB - “This morning, I ate a few crumbs from that flourless chocolate cake and sat down to watch TV when I felt like I was on drugs.”
BQ - “Yeah, yesterday afternoon, I had to leave sick because I felt light headed and tingly.”
Me - “HOLY SHIT!” I had been slipped a flour-less chocolate Mickey. Upon further investigation, I discovered that this chocolate cake had a candied habanero in it. I had eaten the Guatemalan insanity pepper and just like Homer had an epic hallucinogenic adventure! Now I wait for the DEA’s investigation into my google searches on “stoned”, “hallucinations”, “habaneros” and “roofies”.
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