… thinking about what I did over the weekend, makes me want to cry. It could be OK if I had dined out or at least was at some wedding / party of any kind, but no things happen over some thing as trivial as a Good Day biscuit, WTF??? Two hours after taken three cookies am down on the bed, scrawling / rolling and agonizing over the pain and then in the next few hours, puff… am in the hospital. My beautiful weekend begins. I was food poisoned!!?? Over a couple of a trusted brand of trusted flavored biscuit! Don’t you dare stop me if I say “My f**king rotten time?” Only when you think it can’t get any worse, it just happens. There I go to one lousy hospital, coz that’s the one nearer to home, there are no “DOCTOR’s” there at that hour but they do have “Doctors” who f**king jus look like a school going kids. Fine! What can I do? With all those pain? Then comes the night mare, I mean am jus curious, why can’t they ever cure anything with just those tiny tablets, why and why would they need to put that needle on me??? Or for the matter on any one? At this exact point I was thinking how the heck are you going to get a tattoo done baby?? things went to worse from bad!! couldn’t believe my eyes on seeing the list “Two Injections & One Blood Test” that’s bloody three times the needle on me. I am f**king food poisoned not “POISONED”!!???Right? No one hears me? do they??. Thank God for small mercies I dint know a thing of what happened to me in the next couple of hours after the first one was injected So the blissful weekend comes to an end as I return home the sunday evening!
The only good part is it was an extended weekend and I took off on Monday too.
.. Its this out of the world thing and I personally feel nothing is as sinfully blissful as taking off on Monday, people who have seen the real Monday’s know what am talking about. The day when things literally goes haywire and you see bunch of people on there toes running here and there with papers, Oh not to mention those 10.00 AM meetings. Ah! I wake up at some sexy 11’o clock….singing whiskey lullabyJ..la la la…5 missed calls in my office phone. Two from my client’s (he he) am loving it. 3 from my office (Yeah they missed me!!). After all the feel good minutes and daily chores, I answer my door bell; there is this guy, old paper walla. “Amma, intha books ketanga” usually my MIL would ask for anything like a long novel or sort of her tamil weekly’s but this time… what I see in his hands was unbelievable! All brightened up I collect them and run to my bed room and jump on the bed and am still not able to get over the idea of what I am looking at, its been a decade since I’ve seen them. PHANTOM “The Ghost who walks”. Thou let the music blare and starts reading 5 of them at a stretch. Trust me, take my word. There is nothing as pleasurable as a comic read on that hour and at that day of the week. Imagine…a woman mid 30’s, running behind her ass as she is really struggling to catch up with it and my work and as well as her work. Heaven!! (I owe her a drink by the way) Let’s chuck the fact a person I know is acting really like a piece of shit about something to do with the mood swing and the fact that I broke my sexy 12MP dual lens Kodak. I was doing just fine until I saw this morning papers! Don’t even get me started on the Lehman, Merrill story. I really wanted to bawl my eyes out. Two of the BEST clients I‘ve ever worked with and TWO of the biggest name that I am always so fucking PROUD to say I’ve worked with. Bad Time eh??
