| CHAPTER
3: SIGNS OF SENILITY
Thursday, 26 July 2001 It's been a little over a month since I turned 29. Slowly but surely senility was creeping in. How else would you explain me falling asleep in the toilet? I just spent 30 minutes sitting on the bowl just now. In between the usual business that one does in the toilet (I'll spare you the descriptive details), I also managed to fall asleep. Can you imagine? Jeans down to my ankles, butt on bowl and me nodding off dreaming about giving an award acceptance speech at the creative awards night. I wearily sat back down in front of my computer and stared into a blank screen. A blank screen. Somehow it seemed to reflect the state of my mind at that moment too. Blank. And I still had to write a 30-second radio commercial for a soft drink client before the end of today. I raised my fingers and rested them on the keyboard, poised ready as if about to compose some musical masterpiece on the piano. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, I ran my fingers randomly over the keys and then sat back for a look. Hmm...okay, I guess if and when gibberish becomes the official language of this country, this could potentially be a brilliant radio commercial. "Whatcha doing?" Jess asked as she peered over my shoulder. "Writing a radio script," I said disinterestedly. She stuck her head in front of mine and scrutinised my monitor screen. "Hmm...don't you think it needs another goobledeegook here?" I looked at where she pointed - in between ajgsfdjq and gotueihos. "I believe you're right," I nodded in agreement and typed out another string of rubbish. Jess beamed at me. "Good girl," she patted me on the head, took a gulp of the Coke she was holding and let out a belch. I stared at her. Not because I disapproved of her crassness or that she was blatantly drinking our competitor's product but because... "You're brilliant!" I cried out and slapped her on the back causing her to choke on her drink. "Are you trying to kill me?!" she exclaimed. "You're brilliant, just brilliant," I shook my head. "I know," Jess smirked. "Now go away," I said as I turned back to face my computer. I was inspired. I had an idea. I had a radio commercial. All thanks to a belch. An hour later, I had 3 radio commercials staring at me in my face. Hey when inspiration comes, it comes in loads. At least for me anyway. I pried my fingers from the keyboard, leaned back into my chair and gave out a loud yawn. I waited for some sarky comment from Jess but none came. Instead, I heard a deafening yodel come from her direction. "The hills are alive...with the sound of musiccccccccc!" Jess twirled around her chair, impersonating one Ms Andrews. And I wondered why it was that we always got weird stares from people. Then I heard a quack. As in a duck's 'quack quack'. No, old Mcdonald's farm didn't suddenly materialise in my room. No, there was no sudden invasion of Donalds or Daffys. It's only mail. Hey, some computers beep, some play bells, mine quacks, okay? I clicked at the blinking envelope. It was an e-mail from Mag. I wondered what she wanted now. Hey alkie, This reads like your CV. Hah! Due to increasing
products liability litigation, beer brewers have accepted the FDA's suggestion
that the following warning labels be placed immediately on all beer containers:
I love you! (No, I am NOT drunk!) LOL! I hate to admit it but Mag's right. It really does read like my CV. Oh dear. No wonder I can't get myself a man. Who wants a ranting, raving, half the time drunk and forever extremely *happy* girlfriend anyway? Okay then, I slammed my fist down on my desk, full of determination. From this moment on I was going to swear off alcohol. Never would I touch a drop again. I was going to be demure, quiet, consenting and...dumb. Guys like girls like that. Arghhh...how depressing. I need a drink now. Sigh. Looks as though I'm going to end up a spinster after all.
|
