Today is that day. Dragging Thursday. I slosh my legs forward and backward and call it "walking". Yes, I know it's a blessing to slosh...but sloshing makes me tired. Very. Tired. You know, on account of the friction and all. And not in that 70's corduroy way. This is feet on floor friction. And if someone is daring enough to touch me? ZAP! Do I feel badly that they got a shock? Not really. Welcome to my world, man!
Speaking of "Tired. Very. Tired.", I nearly fell asleep at my desk during the small amount of free time I had. Clearly, I can't be trusted with any amount of free time...just like when I was a kid. Wearing corduroy, bell-bottom pants. With great friction.
The thought of going home to 4 excited dogs, who feel the most appropriate manner of greeting me is by flailing themselves against my legs, barking incessantly, makes me tired. Let me tell you who I'm no match for. Our basset hound. He's long, he's strong, and he's low to the ground. He's got the football-style chop block nearly perfected. Thankfully, I fall in stages. Not so thankfully, he climbs on top of me at each stage and smooshes his nose into my face, then tries to lick me in the eye once I'm completely flat on the floor. I so love him. Like a heart attack. Very. Tired.
The process of disrobing from professional attire and accessories is exhausting. Come on, it's the 4th workday in a row of dragging a brush through my hair, lifting the bottle of hairspray, shooting myself in the face on account of a poorly timed finger tremor, re-aiming for the hair, transitioning to the bedroom, pulling dress pants over lead-filled legs, stretching a blouse over my fatigued arms, and carefully pressing the tiny gold topper of my bottle of Coco Mademoiselle lightly so as to smell juuust right...crap. Forgot socks and shoes. Back to bedroom. Undoing all of that? Tired. Very. Tired.
The Official No-Work Wednesday for MSers would mean, at least in my case: Less black scuff marks on the tile floor (sloshing leaves a mark). A surplus of coffee at Dunkin' Donuts (because I need 4x the volume on Thurs and Fri). And a longer life for my rolling desk chair. I go from not sitting in it at all, to basically living in it. If I could scoot myself all the way up the hall to the main office, I would. Either that, or someone should really walk the sign-in sheet down to me. At least on Dragging Thursday and Forget It Friday.
These are just a few of the many benefits. You know it's bad when you greet your boss, she takes one look at you, and says, "oh". "Oh" is code for "you look like you died and nobody told you". It means "you have the potential to scare small children looking like that and shuffling across the floor like Frankenstein". It also means, "you could quite possibly be bad for business today". Thus...No-Work Wednesday. If I were allowed to take this honorary day off, I'd be fresh as a daisy on Thursday and Friday! A daisy, I say! A blurry, confused, disoriented daisy...like the one behind this one! But a daisy nonetheless...
Who's with me!
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