Stormy Monday

Oh for the love of sweet screaming Jesus, you knew it had to happen, right?

The last few weeks have been seamless. Few conflicts have arisen, no crisis or traumas to muddy the general calm of the day. Even the commute has been tolerable as much as those things go. Personalities have been managed. Pleasantries exchanged with shiny, happy people My general demeanor has been cheerful. Life's been just grand.

Then you have one of those really shitty days. Like today.

It should have been a sign of things to come when I had one of those nights that felt as if I'd sat wide awake all night even though I did actually sleep at some point. As I prepared to go to work I could heard sheets of rain pounding down on the air conditioning units mounted in the apartment windows. Having just spent $50 on a blowout on my hair, I was determined not to show up at the office looking like a two dollar hooker on a bad night. The few umbrellas at hand were clearly not up the task of hair protection given the copious rainfall and wind. This called for desperate measures. A clear produce bag from Westside Market inverted and trimmed along one seam should give me enough protection to get from my apartment to my parking garage intact; I'd have to demonstrate enough bravado to make it look normal. I wrapped it around my head with a flourish one might use in donning a Hermes scarf. Which would have worked if the words "Westside Market" hadn't been stretched across my forehead. It served its purpose although I swear a burst of steam escaped from my head when I actually unwound the plastic. And I did scare the hell out of the garage attendant.

Once on the road, the traffic snarled through the Bronx. Trucks plowed through large puddles of standing water making visibility a challenge. One of my wipers was gimpy and it streaked the windshield. Every radio station I put on was playing a song by either Daughtry or Nickelback and I am sick to death of both. I had to resort to a Barry White CD. There's something very perverse about listening to Barry grunt and groan in silky sheet bliss while idling in diesel fumes.

I finally arrived in Connecticut and saw the beacon of salvation: Starbucks. Pulling into the lot it was clear that there was no absolutely parking available. A series of maneuvers and vehicular do-see-does had to be undertaken in order to exit the lot (while accommodating the crusade of SUVs entering the lot). I should have given up, but so great was my need for that liquid crack that I ended up parking on the street a block away. As if on cue, on exiting the car the rain commenced. Without the benefit of my Westside head gear I suffered some follicle distress--maybe on the four dollar hooker level.

I arrived at the office and maneuvered my bags, the crap umbrella and the oversized cup of coffee out of the car. Reaching for my security pass, I nearly dropped the coffee and in an effort to contain it, a generous portion of it spewed forth draping a section of my right hand. I hope the woodland creatures of the surrounding forest were the only ones who heard me then declare, "Goddammmotherfucker! SHIT!" It was 8 am. I hadn't even walked in to work yet.

Once I entered the lobby, I saw the area had been decorated in holiday cheer--a festive wreath, a small decorated Christmas tree, miniature poinsettias. I immediately felt distressed at the absence of a menorah. I made a mental note to bring this up to the facilities manager.

I walked into my office. The bright red foliage which populated the view has completely disappeared; the trio of trees are bare and bereft and their glorious leaves have shed seemingly overnight. In fact almost none of the trees in the office park have retained any leaves whatsoever--the parking lot is blanketed by the last gasp of autumn's finery. The old cemetery dominates the view now...which I would have admired save I can not focus my vision. I have white flashes in front of my eyes which denotes the onset of a migraine.

I took two Tylenol and a big slug of coffee. And so the day begins.

The migraine only intensified by 9 am so I took two more Tylenol. I entertained the notion of eating something to ease the impact of the tablets on my stomach but the notion of any foodstuff made me nauseous. In fact, I felt so nauseous by the time of a 9:30 conference call that I mapped out where I could prudently vomit should I need to (I also located the "mute" function on the phone should a quick reaction be necessary).

The day went from bad to worse. There were many phone calls. There were many issues to attend to. A couple of problems demanded resolution. I've tabled the menorah dialogue for another day. The migraine settled into a low dull throbbing behind my ears where it remained all day, intensified particularly by a conversation with a colleague who has a tendency to shriek when she speaks. On my last conference call of the day I looked at the clock balefully, longing for 5:30. When it finally came, I had an empty stomach, a throbbing scalp and a head full of hooker hair.

This should be the end of the story but come on, people. It's pouring rain on a Monday right and everyone wants to get home. I pulled into the garage at 7:40 pm, delirious and practically speaking in tongues. Now it's evident that the garage attendant is really freaked out by me, Christmas tip be damned. Tonight--rightly so but at least I had given up my plastic headgear.

And how was YOUR day?