The Happy Dark Side of Cold Medicine

My God, I think I'm drunk at work.

My head is bobbing like a cork, I'm dizzy, and I cannot for the life of me focus on anything that is not exactly 14 inches from my face. A Far Side cartoon I saved from January 15 is giving me the giggles. Hee hee.

How did this happen? Was it the bottle of Jack Daniels in my desk drawer? No, not quite. I have a slight head cold that is not severe enough to keep me home but just mischievous enough to be an incessant pain in the ass. I took some Tylenol this morning before I left for work, then I took some cold/sinus pills when I got in, and I just recently took a liberal swig of some truly excellent Navy Exchange brand coff--coff? my God, my drug-addled brain spells fonetically--cough medicine.

Thank God it is lunch break. I can sit here quietly and pray fervently that no one asks me to do anything thought-intensive, like blinking. I should be worried about this, but, to be honest, nothing really bothers me right now. I could be missing a foot and I wouldn't notice for at least forty-five minutes. Ahh, acetaminophen dreams and menthol wishes... At least I'm not coughing.

I'm going to go now and concentrate on not embarrassing myself over the course of the next hour. I'll be back when I'm sober.