Back To The Salt Mines

My first week back at work after a month of summer holiday travel, family, friends and partying. I have a huge holiday hangover. I am slightly jet lagged.

My brain is in a different time zone. No, it’s tenuously connected to my body, floating in another space in the ether.

I look at my ToDo list. It morphs into a sea of random letters and numbers. I feel sea sick.

My phone is constantly ringing. It makes me dizzy. I do not take calls. I put it on silent and hide it in a desk drawer.

My email inbox is electronically bulging, page after page after page after page. I cannot bear to look at it. I chose to surf instead. Mindless but painless. I am quickly bored. I stare off into nowhere.

I attend an important meeting. I am so bored. It is more boring than watching the hair grow on my testicles.

I constantly yawn. My eyes are struggling to stay open. My head occasionally snaps backwards jolting me back to this living torment.

People speak but I do not hear what they are saying. I open my mouth in response and emit gurgled croak noises.

I want to lie down on the floor. I want to die. Now.

I excuse myself. I crawl to the men’s room. I select a cubicle. I lock the door. I sit.

It is quiet.

I nap.

At last, peace.

Beaverboosh