Up yours, Today. How dare you follow yesterday: the day I lost my first patient under anesthesia and practically broke down to pre-medicated levels of uncool; the day that broke through Zoloft, a Xanax, a Painkiller cocktail, a Banana Daiquiri, and herb to leave me emotionally, mentally, and physically in a coma until 6:30 am.
I awoke determined to start a new day prepared to face a busy schedule head-on by arriving 15 minutes early to work. I'd even forgotten that I needed to fill up on gas before heading in, and had extra time to do so. I laughed at my quirky radio show, and like any day, ate my McD nast and drank my massive coke.
Oh, but you were a tease, Today. You let me feel the quiet before the storm and tricked me into a false sense of calm.
Two surgical procedures, two drop-off lab profiles, a full tech appointment and Dr. appointment schedule, and an emergency hit me like a cow in a tornado; not to mention the euthanasia as the first appointment and incidental procedures like sedation and cat enemas and surprise additional pets and no break, not even to pee when I'm on my period. And I lost it. You won, Today. I got sucked into the tornado and it spit me out the other side looking like stewed tomatoes.
So up yours, Today. I end you with a spite cocktail, hopelessness and meatballs on my spaghetti, to be chased by more liquor. And I get to go back to this tomorrow, you ass cannon. Up yours with a bowling ball.
(3 hours later)
*Oh, I stand corrected. You got the last laugh by killing my Nana, you sick fuck, in a most horrid fashion. Well, touche. I hope the tornado you sent my way drives a 3' rough wooden dildo at high speed into your ass.*
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