Unbagging the Cats 1

Unbagging the Cats 1

Thursday, April 28, 2011

My Transformation

Today I am one of the popular people. You know, the people who are the hottest thing going. On the tip of everybody's tongue. The IN CROWD. The hep cats. The bee's knees. That's me. Today.

By popular people, of course I mean Zombies. My transformation began at 12:30 a.m., when I woke up in my basement recliner with a pounding headache across the front of my forehead. I went upstairs to bed, where the headache worsened. After tossing for two hours, and then tossing my stomach contents,  I sat awake in the living room recliner until time to arise for work at 5:00. It's amazing what four hours of sleep can do for a person.

My skin is pale gray. I mumble incoherently while trying to communicate. I shuffle along in a shambling walk. I am starving for brains.

Yep. I'm a zombie, all right.

4 comments:

Author Joshua Hoyt said...

I'm sorry to hear about your headache. I hope you are feeling better soon.

Val said...

Josh,
Thank you. It finally went away by noon the next day, after a dose of ibuprofen. I had to rely on my 16-year-old son to drive me to school.

Kathy's Klothesline said...

Oh no, we had the same headache!! I am still a little wonky in my head, no sudden moves for me and I have sneezed so many times I have lost count. Allergy season has arrived!

You must have realy been in a bad way ..... to ride with the new driver!

Val said...

Kathy,
I have been a little wonky in my head as far back as I can remember. But it has nothing to do with a headache.

My young chauffeur whipped out of our driveway and onto the gravel road at fast & furious clip. Which did nothing positive for my nausea. I told him I could tell he was truly his father's son, with his gas-gas-gas, brake-brake-brake tendencies. He laughed. Like I didn't mean it.

After a short lecture on how much gas he was eating that could be feeding T-Hoe for an extra couple of days, he began coasting toward stop signs, and stopped taking off like we were launching to the moon. For the last mile or so, anyway.