I felt pretty bad when I woke up this morning, but my situation quickly deteriorated once I got to work. Still, I toughed it out through the whole shift. It took a Herculean effort, but I somehow drove myself home, only to discover that my wife, Mary, hadn’t shoveled the driveway.
Fortunately, the snow wasn’t deep, and I was able to use a leaf blower to remove most of it before it froze solid. The effort drained the last of my reserves, however, so I staggered inside and collapsed on the sofa.
Soon I felt sleepy and managed to drift off, only to awake a short time later due to feeling a wet sensation on my cheek. I’d drooled onto the pillow Mary had sewn for me last summer, the one with the gaily colored Day of the Dead skulls. Apparently I’d been mouth-breathing while I slumbered, but didn’t discover the reason for that necessity until awaking.
While I slept, someone crept to my side and rammed a steel spike into my right nostril and up into my brain. I can’t explain why I didn’t wake while this was going on, I must have been deeply anesthetized, but now that I’ve come to, it feels exactly like one would expect it to feel after a steel spike — wrapped in sandpaper — has been thrust into your right nostril and up into your brain. It hurts!
Somehow I found the strength to drag myself up the stairs and into the kitchen, where I put the kettle on to boil. Somewhere in one of the cabinets was the euthanasia tea, but I doubted I’d be strong enough to find it, hidden as it likely was behind Mary’s boxes of blueberry, raspberry, acacia and the gods know what other noxious blends she has in there. How can I be expected to find things in my weakened condition?
Still, I managed it, but while crawling into the living room I spilled almost half the tea I’d labored so hard to obtain.
By e-mail, my best friend said it sounds like I have man flu. I’ve never heard of that, but she knows more about medical matters than I do. Whatever it is, I can attest to the fact that it’s painful and deadly.
This could be it, dear readers. I’m going down fast. Who will take over the Roamin’ Gnomials franchise when I’m gone?