Wednesday, March 21, 2007

A Day in the Life of Poker Chick

Some of you might have noticed Poker Chick is a bit testy lately. She apologizes for this annoyance but hopes you will understand that she has been very busy getting her @ss kicked from all sides. BAM! Take that, Poker Chick. Down she goes again. There's no easier way to explain this than to document a typical day this week.

Midnight:
I am sound asleep.
2am: I wake up wheezing.
2:15am: I realize I can take my inhaler and do so.
2:30am: Air! I go to sleep.
4:15am: I wake up and toss and turn for the next 2 1/2 hours, depsite the fact I've barely slept in two days. Yay, benzodiazepine withdrawal! Not.
7:00am: Finally drag my @ss into the shower. Somehow manage to shave this morning. (I know you all wanted to know that detail.)
7:30am: Cough. Wheeze. Take inhaler again.
7:55am: Out the door 10 minutes later than I needed to be. But I have makeup on, so it least it's for good reason.
8:30am: Arrive breathless at my accountant's office, right on the dot. Amazing considering I forgot that the E train didn't stop at 59th street, so had to take the N and walk two boulevards to 8th avenue. With my laptop and taxes in tow and wheezing the whole time. Such a pretty sight I must be.
9:30am: Participate in a conference call from work. (Thanks for your office, Larry!)
10:07am: Call ends 7 minutes late. I run over to work.
10:12am: Buy breakfast sandwich and water.
10:15am: Devour egg sandwich on the subway with whatever finger is not holding something while everyone on the E train stares at me as if I'm a homeless person. I feel nostalgic for the 6. The E is so much ickier.
10:42am: Make it into work. Right in time for a redo of all the boards we "completed" last night. Oy vey.
10:43am: Go to boss' office for call with Client.
12:48pm: Finally back at my desk. Have two minutes to check messages (6 voicemails to return alone), grab some papers, and get a sip of water before going back into boss' office for another call.
12:49pm: Phone rings. Outside line. Probably Client. I pick up and get my father. He's got a bad tooth and a computer virus. I sympathize, but he does not understand the concept of "can't talk now". I hang up the phone in frustration.
1:41pm: 7 minute break. Grab yogurt parfait from cafeteria. Bring to boss' office to eat during yet another Client call. They had re-writes. Yay. (Yay, it's my birthday, yay....yes, that's an inside joke.)
4:01pm: Finally get to pee. That's just wrong.
4:04pm: Still not breathing. Speak to doctor. She calls in more meds and refers me to a pulmonologist. Of course now I can't remember where I wrote that number down. Where's Kramer when you need him?
4:05pm: Final Client call of the day.
6:00pm: At my desk. Think I can get work done until I realize what time it is. Assess dizziness and breathing and take inhaler again. Start to think maybe asthma's not my problem at all. Maybe I just have no time to breathe.
6:20pm: Leave work to go to pharmacy. Pharmacist says that new dose of asthma meds are not covered by insurance for a couple more weeks. My options are to pay or not get the meds. No big deal, not like it's life or death medication, right? Oh, wait. Anyway. I cough up $317.19 and continue wheezing. $317.19!!!! Now I feel like a breathless sucker. I don't know what hurts more, my lungs or my wallet.
6:55pm: Spend the next 10 minutes trying to figure out if current hyperventilation is a true medical emergency or just raging anger.
7:01pm: Yep. It's anger, all right. With a little bit of medical emergency peppered in.
7:25pm: Begin the process of trying to put Poker Chick Junior to bed.
11:01pm: Lie awake in bed, exhausted, wondering why I still can't sleep. I am truly pathetic.
11:58pm: Visions of sugarplums dance in my head.
12:00am: A new day is finally here. Thank goodness.

Now, if I sound irritable to you, please don't take it personally. It just means I hate you right now.

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