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This is my blog, and it is dangerous. Do you think I want to die like this?





Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Wanna hear something potentially embarrassing?

Of course you do, you evil little monkeys.

Yesterday I was pissed enough to jerk knots in a few asses.  Someone was chain-smoking outside, and it was getting into my apartment.  At first I told myself I was just smelling things, but then I also started feeling that scraped-out skull headache feeling I get when I smell cigarette smoke.  I pop my head outside, and get smacked in the face by the smell.  Okay, so it's probably not coming from an adjacent apartment. 

After hours of the stink of cigarettes ebbing and flowing, I finally called the courtesy officer, who informed me that I wasn't the first person to complain about someone smoking outside, since there were cigarette butts everywhere.  She said she'd come by and see if she could find the person, and ask them to take it elsewhere.

The stink continued.  My rage grew.  I have two small children here, and the idea of some shithead funneling toxic chemicals into the air they breathe was making me downright murderous.  Not to mention my all-day headache, and now sore throat.

So I called the sheriff's department, assuming that I was in for a long fight, and the best first step was getting a record of my complaint.

The stink continued.

My husband comes home, and I'm all "stinks, doesn't it?", and he's all, "what?"  Assuming the issue is that he's pretty much hard of smelling, I dismiss the fact that it's impossible to have walked directly through what had to have been a thick cloud of cigarette smoke to be capable of filling nearly every room of our apartment with stinkiness, and not have noticed it at all.

But then I start to doubt.  Husband's claiming to not have bad allergies that day, and if I'm being completely realistic about the situation, I did just start a medication that is well known for having some wacky side effects.  So I get on Facebook and ask my friends if any of them have ever heard of weird smells as a side effect of Topamax.

I'm just kidding, I'm not an asshole.  I Googled it.  Couldn't find anything, by the way.  But it's not impossible, considering that Topamax is primarily an anti-seizure medication - God only knows what sort of neurological mayhem it plays on a person who's had it prescribed for migraines.

Right now, the front of my brain feels warm.  Every now and then, I'll decide to get something, walk to absolutely the wrong place to get said item, stand there like some sort of path-blocked Sim with a half-dopey grin on my face and then say, "Right.  I wanted the milk.  That's in the fridge, not in the dryer."  And I haven't even started titrating up to my actual dosage yet.  This could get potentially very fun.  For other people.

Anyway, I continued smelling cigarette smoke, even after I went to bed.  It was as if some gravelly-voiced old lady was sitting in a chair next to my bed, blowing smoke directly into my face.  This morning - nothing.

Stay tuned for morbid stupidity.

ETA: It just occured to me that Bunny Walker is going to be sure that my medication is turning me into a superhero.  I'm fairly certain she thinks this is happening to everyone, all the time.
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2 comments:

Unknown said...

Oh God, I think I'm smelling it again. Kill me, please.

Anonymous said...

I just think that mutation is extremely likely in our current atmosphere and society. I, for one, am looking forward to harnessing my freak power. Go ahead, make fun, but just ask yourself....is Bunny a super HERO...or a super villain....?

~BW
(smirked all-too-knowingly at the FB/Google shout-out)