Friday, December 10, 2010

CASTIGATING THE SMALL FELINE

Today I have 'anger issues' towards my ex-girlfriend.
No, it's not because she dumped me after more than two decades and we're just roommates now. It's not that. I've digested it, and am working it out of my system.

It's what happened this morning.
Savage Kitten provided TWO prime invitations to a foul mood.


THE SOMEWHAT LESSER ISSUE

She kindly left me a pair of lovely tamales with sauce to eat yesterday. They were delicious.
It is now abundantly clear that I should have eaten only one of them at most, and it would have probably been far better if I had also had less of the sauce.
It's not what you think. Montezuma and his fairies did NOT visit last night, I experienced no brutalizing of my colon by the chilies.
And there was NO panicked rush to the crapper at Casa Toad this morning.
Far otherwise.
Gout.
Gout.
Gout.
My right foot is trying to self-destruct at present. I can hardly walk, and I feel the enlarged joint of the big toe weeping and wailing and gnashing its teeth. It does not like me, nay far otherwise, the swollen poxy bastard hates me with a passion, and if it breaks free, it will wreak horrid vengeance upon the world.
It is possessed by a daemon, and it is filled with thoughts of violence.

Pain up to the knee.

Technicolour dreams during the night. Villainous things, tamales are. So good, yet so very cruel.
Ambulatorily, my progress this morning has been twitchy and slow. With overmuch therapeutic use of the 'F' word, not always sotto voce.

I startled two drug-addicts on my way to work - probably thought I had shot a bad dose or something. They hopped out of my way.
Alacritous bitches!
I am suffering intensely.


THE DISTINCTLY GREATER ISSUE
Stubborn woman! When you are running a fever and look like you're about to keel over, you really should stay home. Go on, call your boss and tell her you're sick. Yes, I know you feel it would be wussy and irresponsible to miss work. Sometimes you just have to do so. Listen to me! You look like death warmed over. Stop saying that you don't do enough, you'll be all right, there is still much to be done, and that you need to take care of people. This is all immaterial, you need to be good to yourself. The best thing you can do for the people you love is to take care of Savage Kitten.

Why don't you listen? Do you really think it's constructive to argue with me for twenty minutes about how you'll be okay and I shouldn't worry? Those muffled weak sounds from beyond the bathroom door are not at all convincing.
You are on the point of collapse. Stay home. Dammit!

Once she is set on something it is impossible to change her mind.
I'm certain she dragged herself in to the office after I left.
If her coworkers have any brains, they'll send her home.
She should be in bed right now, getting some rest.
Stubborn woman!


AFTERWORD
Just got a call from my own phone number. Would you care to guess who is home again right now, sounding weak and fragile?
Hmmmm? Hmmmmmmmmmmmm?!?
I'll bring her some hot rice porridge from C'town when I come home this evening.
And I'll make sure she's tucked in warmly.
Her Teddy Bear will give her the necessary stern lecture, once she's well again.


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