When it hits the fan...

I know this guy from long ago, he was a kid back then, 17, 18 maybe? Well, he’s 28 now, and is in therapy at a hospital, after he collapsed from a heart attack. Supposedly, he’s the second youngest heart attack patient at that particular hospital. Which then takes me out of the running to be the youngest, huh?

Upon hearing the news, you could imagine me all of a sudden feeling my pulse, suspecting a blockage throughout the length of my arteries and veins. That night I ate pork chops, after trimming off the fat, which I love, by the way. I resist the temptation to light up another stick, for more or less 20 minutes. After that cigarette, I make up for it by hopping on the stationary bike and pedal like mad for the next 34 minutes.

*****

So, I have a job, as of now. My boss informs me that she has just been rapped by the big boss about the dismal state of sales last year and gives me an evil stare. Hmm, last time I checked, I was managing sales. Guess I’m wearing a jacket to the office next week for I’m sure the fan would be set on high and aimed directly at me when all the shit is spewed out.

Suddenly, I update my profile on Jobstreet.com, my resume and take home some of the more bulky items in my office drawer. Better to be prepared for anything, I guess. I mentally compute how much I would be getting in severance pay and how long that would last me. The option to go back to the folk’s place rears its ugly head yet again, so I scan the dailies for a cheaper place and take note of the items that I would be able to sell off quickly enough to tide me over another few months until the lease expires on my current apartment.

*****

A few days ago, I was cruising along the C5 road at about 100kph when this pick-up truck overtakes me. I didn’t think much of it at first, he was going way faster than I was so I happily followed his tail lights, when all of a sudden we get up to a bridge and something gets tossed out from its truck bed. I pay no attention to it, until I noticed that the ejected object was going straight towards me. Before I could even react and hit the brake pedal, whatever it was slammed straight onto my hood and windshield, finally revealing itself to me as an empty carton that had been unfolded. The word “Funchum Apple Juice” was splattered onto the glass, making a horrible noise that thudded throughout the interior, I was almost sure the glass cracked and shattered. After a second or two it finally flew off, revealing a small smudge in its wake. I sighed relief as I once again accelerated and headed for home.

The next day I checked the car and the hood was scratched from the incident. Deep, deep scratches, uncovering the sheet metal of which the metal exoskeleton of the car was made of. Crap!

*****

This morning I woke up with a bad case of the sniffles. I couldn’t breathe from my nose and my eyes were burning up from what seemed like the onset of a fever. To make matters worse, it was nine o’clock, I was home in bed a full hour after the office opened. Before I could gather my wits, my phone rang and displayed my boss’ name on its tiny screen. As I pondered on the wisdom of answering it, the ringing ceased. This can’t be good, I thought, as a text message came 30 seconds later as I was thinking up an excuse:

“Where are you? You were supposed to be here for our 8:30 meeting. You could at least be responsible enough to send a message if you’re going to be late.”

The sad part about the whole affair was that I thought the meeting was for Friday. I sprang up from bed and scanned through my planner, and yes, it was for Friday, not Thursday as today was. But how do you tell that to your boss when you know you are actually late for the office, meeting notwithstanding? Of course I try, and get a curt reply:

“That may be the case, but you are late.” Touche. Check and mate. I tell you, not being able to breathe was suddenly the least of my problems at that moment, and I suddenly felt what could well have been a massive heart attack. My life suddenly flashed before my burning eyes. Oddly enough, my life was summarized in all of 5 seconds, two seconds of it was me writing a post on this blog about killing off two rodents named Roger and Hammerstein. That can’t be good, can it?