I’m suffering from PVR (post-vacation retardation). I’m trying to “hang in there” for my boss, but I must say, this has been the longest work day of my freaking life. I had six hours of sleep, which would be satisfactory under normal circumstances, but truly, I got out of bed this morning and made my way to the shower with my eyes 70% closed. Heard something or other about Ricky Martin being gay on the radio, and now here I am.
I’m not asking for pity. I just want to bring awareness to this condition, as it can severely affect one’s well-being for a number of days, if proper care isn’t taken. The symptoms include, but aren’t limited to:
1. Spontaneous falling-asleepness
2. Ugliness (especially of the face and hair)
3. Mild hallucinations
4. Short-term memory loss
5. The shakes (a result of alcohol and tobacco withdrawal)
6. Caffeine cravings
7. Incoherence / lifelessness of speech
8. Weight loss (don’t mind this one so much. probably a result of #4 – forgetting to eat)
These may not be alarming individually, but together, they are severely debilitating. I have managed to tag 300+ pictures on Facebook today, but my lackluster comments are clear indicators of my condition; where I may, in good health, have created a real LOL in one or two short sentences, I debated, deleted, and finally, defeated, left a shameful few words barely worthy of a ‘ha.’ It would be a real downer if it weren’t for the fact that, thanks to symptom #4, I am also easily distracted. I can’t even remember to remain disappointed at myself for longer than a few seconds. My eyes are drawn to the door, to which I must walk, open, and take even MORE steps to enter the kitchen.
Mmm, the kitchen. There’s probably Passover leftovers. My back hurts. Maybe I can just close my eyes for a little bit. Mmmm… I’ll put my head down too. I’ll hear steps if someone comes this way. Swedish House Mafia and Armin were so good. I looked really nice in that dress. Agh, I want a beer and an empanada and the beach and a book. Can’t believe I finished that book. I thought I was gonna start seeing demons on my shoulder too. They had a lot of sex. I wonder if I would cheat on my boyfriend if I were touring in a rock n’ roll band. I need to pee. It’s all this coffee I’m drinking and it’s not even working. Oh my god, I need to close the month for each of the companies by like, Friday. FUCK, it’s only 12:27????
As you can imagine, the thoughts continued, looming over the happiness I felt less than 48 hours ago. Where there were boys flirting with me, is now my boss with lease contract jargon. The brief , refreshing rain has been replaced by the cold, persistent showers of New England. I’m wearing more clothes than I care to, none as cute as the sarongs I casually wrapped around my neck. I hear silence and the occasional too-loud ring of the telephone (GOD, don’t they know I JUST got back?) instead of sick beats and laughter.
I’ve got a useless, slow brain that refuses to come up with decent closure to this excuse for a blog post. It’s sharp enough, however, to realize it’s time to go home and fucking crash.