:: How yesterday would have differed were I a voracious but barely functional user of: ::

Saturday, April 03, 2004

The old standbys:

Ecstasy - The announcement of Girl Scout cookies in the kitchen prompts me to shower praise upon the coworker who brought them, calling them "a warm, beautiful person" and "true companion". A deep period of introspection then follows after learning it was I who brought the cookies. Repeated trips to the water cooler eventually give way to Molvanian dance party in the smaller of the two conference rooms.

Cocaine - I send out a company-wide email informing everyone that the application I'm designing will "f*cking rule!!!!", and that I'm "aggressively readjusting our development deadline from May 19th to tomorrow, approx 10am". I include a post-script promising that "there's nobody I'd rather go to war with than this group right here". After disappearing for several hours, I am found in the supply closet shaking and insisting that the cleaning people are narcs.

Heroin - An engineer comes around to my desk to inform me that the data-import scheme we devised earlier has some critical flaws. I hoarsely respond that my eyelids are having one thousand simultaneous orgasms before vomiting copiously upon a half-evaporated pile of earlier vomit.

Alcohol - No difference.

PCP - Overflowing with energy, I offer to help move several people from their current desks towards the front of the office to new stations in the rear. The most logical way I can think to do so involves attaching thick rope to their heavy metal desks and dragging them all, alone, forty feet across the industrial carpeting. This tears my arms from their sockets. When the endorphins kick in, I discover the joy of breaking windows with my skull. After disappearing for several hours, I am found in the supply closet shaking and demanding that the cleaning people stop stealing my thoughts.

Over the counter:

Paint thinner - While on a conference call to Seattle I raise what I consider to be a salient point by stating that the project in question "will totally not work until we make the earth stop vibrating." I deftly deflect criticism of this position by noting that the "thinking pulses" coming from the ceiling are superior to those from the floor.

Robotussen - Noticing the drool collecting in my lap, I journey to the back to pick up some napkins. Two intensively time-dilated hours later, I give up at the halfway point, collapse to the floor, and try in futility to scratch off all my skin.

Imaginary:

Pixie dust - Lunchtime becomes a phantasmagoric adventure of happy thoughts and fantastic worlds unseen to mortal men - indistinguishable from heroin, but without the heaving.

Soma - I am a happy worker. My job brings me a sense of fulfillment. I am warmed by the prospect of my daily duties. I endeavor to do the best job I can. Life is tolerable and there is little pain. Yay.

Huey Lewis' "A New Drug" - I don't get sick, crash my car, feel three feet thick, develop a headache/cottonmouth/pink eye, become overly anxious or prone to spilling things, blow all my money, have my sleep-wake cycle disrupted, lose my emotional center, start to babble, or develop acne.

Posted by morland @ 07:11 PM

:: Comments ::

A thoroughly enjoyable post.

Posted by: on April 4, 2004 08:44 PM

genius morland. keep up the good work.

Posted by: karen on April 5, 2004 01:12 AM

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