March 6th, 18:09 | Fishy, fishy, fishy, can't you see?
So, it's the second day of Lent, and my first day where it's an actual challenge not IM-ing. You would not believe how much slower work is going by. (You'd think I'd take the opportunity to journal more, wouldn't you? To be fair, I tried; I started a text file around 10am. I hadn't really got a chance to write much till now though. Figures.)
The fish are looking panicky. It could have to do with all the people constantly whacking the glass and stuff. *rolls eyes* Oh, yes. Did I say? Sunday I bought fish (two; gold) and Monday they moved (were moved?) into Workplace. I've named them Sparky and Bobo. Sparky's smaller, and has some black bits in his tail. Bobo's bigger (and eats more) and has white tail bits.
Feeling much better now that the scary part of the week is over. Yesterday was muchly improved by semi-hang-out-age with sister, who is apparently trying to ruin my good name at Workplace, since she's given me a whole bottle of Khalua. And there's even postulated weekend hang-out-age with Linlin, hopefully! (You look so cute and industrious at work! Even in scarily pragmatic shoes!) I can just see this: it'll start off with just kind of late-night study snackety cows, and probably "pseudo-chocolate milk" cows on weekends. Then one day, I'll crack. I'll think, "Well...it's almost like chocolate milk...?", mix one up in my travel mug and take it in to work. No one'll notice for a couple days. Then I'll just start taking in straight Kahlua, buying cartons of milk, and mixing it into the carton.
I'll start minimizing conversation with my teammates, so they won't smell the alcohol. I'll keep water on my desk in a separate glass, and go through three boxes of tic tacs a week. The team'll know what's up anyway. My team lead will discretely take me into the room, and inform me that Workplace has kind of a no-alcohol policy on the premises, during work hours, and I'll get bitter and angry, and rant that I'm perfectly sober goddamnit!! And that customers are happy with my service, so what's his problem, huh?? He'll close his eyes, take a deep breath and send me home for the night. At 13h26.
I'll get home angry and scared about jeopordizing my internship. To calm myself I'll mix up another one. And get bitter and self-righteous, and maybe even do my psych. I'll design ways of consuming the stuff that don't involve me swallowing it. I'll pioneer the "brown cow patch", or figure out a surreptitious IV.
Until one day, Coworker throws me the ball, and I need to reach a bit to catch it! I've strained a bit out of my reach, and the needle pops out! It pokes into my skin in another place, as a little blood seeps out of the original breach, and starts soaking through my shirt. In a panic, I try to rush to the bathroom, trip over my headset cord, and dislodge the whole rigmarole. The carefully taped drip tubes become exposed and the team forms a circle around me, asking what's going on. When they discover the bag taped to my thigh containing The Stuff, it is confiscated, and I am thrown out of the building, my pass taken from me.
Urhhh right. Wow. And I had all this content-ful stuff I'd wanted to write about too. Well, since I've forgotten it all, I'll write about it later, I suppose. (Note to self: lay off the re-reading of the chapter on mental disorders, particularly the psychoses. Sheesh.)
Thanks for everything, chan. ;)
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