Damn those pipe cleaners!

The work was boring. Unbelievably boring. The battle to remain in a conscious state had begun. I held open my eye lids hoping that when released they’d remain in position but my eyelids are not made from pipe cleaners. I sometimes hoped my nose was, that would be fun, but it was never going to work. Sit up straight. Open that window. Turn that music up. They were all obvious suggestions. If I’m getting out of this one I’ll need cunning.

The most important thing to remember is that you must stay awake!

In an open plan office a sleeping baby is easy to spot. And how they’d scowl if they saw me sleeping. On the job. I dread to think what might happen. I suppose being stabbed over the matter would be somewhat “extreme” given the circumstances but it was something I wasn’t willing to risk. It was getting tough now though. It was getting really tough. My lashes started to narrow my field of vision as my eyes strained to stay open. Damn those pipe cleaners!

I reached out with my legs hoping the stretch may facilitate the solution. The theory was valid. I stretch out in the mornings so maybe I can trick my body into feeling it is the morning. That is cunning! No, that would never work, a terrible idea. What if my body remained 8 hours behind? I’d be in the wrong time zone completely! I’d eventually have to move to Seattle or San Francisco which, on the face of it, didn’t strike me as a particularly bad idea, it just wasn’t something I’d budgeted for. Anyway, it’s probably not the best idea to piss off my body right now anyway. I ate a dodgy marrow last night and I’m still having repercussions. Nope, I was going to need to change my tactic. But it was too late for I had already thrown my plan into action. I was desperate and it was chaos up there. Someone needed to take control. But it was too late. The order had been given and the legs were out. I had slumped. I was now at my desk, laying down, incapable of retracting. All I had left was my rationale, barely conscious conscience. “Must stay awake, must stay awake…”

It was at this point that I woke up.

Santa’s home brewed hangover from hell

What the fuck was that?! I woke up with a sense of fear and dread. The horror hit me bad. I was out of my depth. What was I thinking? 7.30am. It’s dark, really dark. I struggled to find my face and when I did I rubbed my eyes. I wasn’t ready for this, I knew it, my body knew it. Gradually the cogs started to move like a soviet war factory firing up her furnaces in the bitterly cold Siberian winter. This is a fucking joke! I’d sooner be dead than a Zombie.