torpor (fourteen)

Sometimes I just run out of steam. This usually manifests in a headache or extreme torpor and is exacerbated by monthly hormonal issues. Usually I can push through until the weekend and recharge but sometimes it’s a perfect storm, a migraine like I’ve had for the past few days, and I have to take a few hours of vacation or sick time and unplug. I pushed through a presentation this morning with a vicious stabbing pain in my head. By all accounts it was a good presentation- I sucked all the air out of the room and rendered my mostly non-native English speaking audience dumb with the unspoken desire for me to Stop Talking. I still don’t like public speaking but forced necessity has made me adept and I take bitter delight in going over my allotted time and numbing the shit out of everyone. Hey – you want me to talk? By God I will talk. This delighted my CEO who is nearing retirement and becoming almost pixieish in his glee. He knew I wasn’t feeling 100% so he spent some time pulling faces at me from his Big Chair – thumb to nose waggling his fingers at me- and bawling at me in his broad brogue on the break to pay attention. Then relenting and telling me crossly that I needed to move away from the window because it is too bloody cold over there and what was I trying to do to myself? I have an odd relationship with executive staff, and they take great pleasure in pushing me this way and that in my career as though I am a species of amoeba that reacts in particularly fascinating ways to being gently needled.  

I drove home at midday pondering the concept of self-driving cars. The University is testing them at their mock-city which they built under the pale blue clouded water tower a few miles fromWidget Central HQ. Who wants to trust a driverless car? Wouldn’t we be better off spending money on better public transportation, efficient high speed rail, etc? Perplexing to a Luddite such as myself. I came home and Sarge was exactly where I left him, face down in the duvet, and I was happy to join him.

  
Now, a few hours later, my headache has dwindled somewhat, a hurricane becoming a tropical storm, downgrading in intensity. It’s the type of headache that I will feel after it’s gone, an empty hollow space of remembered pain. 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s