Tuesday, August 31, 2004

This is what it sounds like, when crabs cry

Have you ever had one of those days in which you drop everything you pick up, you mangle every sentence you try to speak, you can't dial the phone to save your life, and even the most simple task presents an insurmountable challenge? I had that day yesterday. I was like a Keystone Cop, stumbling and bumbling throughout the day. Here are two examples:

Scenario #1: "Crabby, my goodness, are you ok? You look unwell," my colleague said. I explained that I was mostly fine, but recovering from a Sunday migraine. "Oh, sorry. I have Advil in my office if you need anything." I thanked her for her offer of meds, but explained, "I'm well-stacked."

That's not a typo. I meant to say "stocked." But I didn't.

Scenario #2: It was a dangerous, ill-fated plan, but I thought even a simpleton could steam vegetables and make cocktails at the same time. I put a pot of water on the flame to come to the boil, retrieved two highball glasses from the china cabinet, poured a big, happy jigger of gin, and dumped the gin into the pot of water. Mr. Crabby came into the kitchen at that moment to prepare the steaks, and wondered at the sight of me holding an empty highball glass and an empty shot glass. The vegetables were surprisingly delicious!