Monday, December 12, 2011

Top Morning Indicators Your Day is Really Going to Suck...

We've all been there, experiencing those morning events that just scream to you, "this day is going to suck."

Tie-Dipping in coffee, every shirt is wrinkled, car won't start...

How about these:

You wake up and it's Monday.

You wake up to realize you've stolen anything from Mike Tyson.

You wake up late for the Monday Morning Sales Group-Hug back in the crumbling world that is your company.

You wake up, walk to the bathroom, and Patrick Duffy is stepping out of the shower - it was all a dream. And you might be...well,  "...skip to my Lou, happy...".

You wake up, swear by all the gods of fast food hell, you will never go to Wendy's again. Lift the lid, there are ladies about, feel a stronger than usual back pain, look down and see blood.

- this is what happened to me, today, this morning...

Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot!

On my way to the hospital, driving the Rover, I can't say my mind was trudging through the ever changing ecosystem that is technology, let alone the upcoming MpS speaking schedule.

No. The pain was blinding - and at the time I didn't know if I had a kidney stone or alien about to pop out.

But I digress.

We often hear about 4 hour waiting periods in the local E-room - I have figured out how to jump the line: stumble in, forget your name, hand to lady at the desk your license, Starbucks card and pass out. That procedure, pretty much gets you right in.

Oh, and say "sorry" as often as you cuss. The nurses love that. 

For the second time in my life, I found myself begging for drugs - pain killers in liquid form and great quantity - please, 'stat'. (I remember my days of watching GH, they used that word a bunch of times)

The magic juice in the hanging plastic bag, finally found it's way into my bloodstream - I was ready to go in with a Swiss Army knife, and dig the offended stone out myself.

The morning flowed, the pain subsided, and I began to feel embarrassed around my earlier behavior apologizing to each person who helped by telling me to slow my breathing - which is pretty much code for "man up, it's a stone smaller than a pea, I passed a nine pounder and called him Jane" - they were all females.

Again, I digress.

The CatScan revealed what everyone but I knew, kidney stone.

It's going to hurt, it won't be over quickly - wonderful.

They sent me home but not empty handed, oh no.  A bag of Percacet and a funnel with a screen - you figure it out from there.

I did notice, while checking out, that the person helping me, when needing to print my receipt, pulled tray 2 out on her HP, grabbed the output, walked 4 steps to her right, placed my driver's license and the freshly printed 8.5x10 receipt on the glass of a Ricoh MFP(shinny Ikon tag and all) and made a copy. Right there in front of me.

Huh - MpS is all around, isn't it.

How'd your morning go?

Sell on...   

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1 comment:

  1. You can take the boy out of the MpS shop but you can't take the MpS shop out of the boy, even when he's got to deal with a kidney stone.

    They say it's the closest approximation for a guy to know what a woman goes through when giving birth. That said I want no part of it. All the best, good luck!