The One Where CoWorkers Kill Each Other

So I took the day off yesterday as the sickness that has made Kickers a snotty, crying mess finally waylaid me. It took over despite all the work that I had done in making my body inhospitable through booze and fast living. I feel this reacted poorly to the work I had also done in trying to live longer by eating well and getting some exercise.

So I spent yesterday in headachy, fevery, sleepy fog. Completely to the side, they’re playing Guided By Voices on KEXP right now, the combo of that, the bare tree shakin’ its shit in the big wind outside and the sound of Kickers talking gently to himself makes me pretty danged happy.

Anyway, I returned to the workplace this morning to find my team still frazzled from the fit they had worked themselves up into yesterday. See, they had apparently processed all of the emails they were charged with processing, thus not only doing their job, but doing to a degree a success. For most people this would be a good thing.

To hear it spoken of today, in the sort of shocked whispers that are reserved for legend, you would have believed that under the red glow of massive fires, the team had set upon each other and eaten the weak – somehow also managing to firebomb Tacoma in the middle of it all. I kept expecting to trip over ribcages and slip in the cast off inner organs of former correspondence reps.

Despite the graphic “when two tribes go to war” tales I was told about, someone still had the time and wherewithal to email all of us with the info that Heath’s death was due to accidental overdose on prescription drugs.

But I already knew that, I had been privy to the news yesterday. I saw it reported twice and was confused each time by the breath of relief the newscasters issued when they reported that it was prescription drugs that had done him in. It was as if the shadow of street drugs would besmirch the life he had left behind.

I’m not sure that it’s better that he had five or six “legal” drugs within reach. That still smacks of being in touch with a dealer, even if said dealer has a medical degree.


Feb(r)uary Song Of The Day: Again, feeling bad for missing yesterday, here’s a Twofer (this time) Thursday – “Bang A Gong (Get It On)” by T. Rex, followed closely by David Bowie’s “Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps)”