Every superhero needs a soundtrack, right?
A week straight of cluster headaches is starting to fuck with my head. Not that it wasn't already fucked with plenty. That's not news. Still moving through it though. Still moving through it.
Sit tight, or not. This might be a rant. So I'm wrapping up a work day today and a call comes in on my smellular unit. It's a 202 area code so I'm figuring the Tax Man finally caught up with me with his 5 for you 15 for me ways and why not just answer the call and get it over with. It'd be blood from a stone anyway so maybe he's got some magic. When I pick up the phone it's a man with a heavy South Asian accent and from the noise in the background it sounds like a Bangalore call center. He had me dead to rights though so I figured I'd make sure. I would try to be polite. First thing he says is:
"I am very sorry about your recent cancer diagnosis but I'm calling with some very good news. You might qualify for free experimental treatments."
My response: "I beg your pardon?"
Him: Yes, I am very sorry about your recent cancer diagnosis
Me: That's very sweet of you... but...
Him: I have very good news for you.
Me: Cancer is good news?
Him: You may qualify for free cancer treatment.
Me: Wait. Cancer is good news?
Him: Treatment is good news.
Me: Fuck that. I just paid all my bills and you're telling me I didn't have to?
Then I started feeling guilty and cut him off and told him I don't have cancer, and you know the little bollix had the nerve to sound disappointed? It's like... no Patrick. I indulged him because he told me his name was Patrick. Okay then. But no Patrick. I'm sorry but I don't have a potentially terminal illness but if it makes you feel better I will call you if I catch it. Of course I forget that I'm sitting in a somewhat new job. They're all staring, so I quit the call and stood up to leave. They continued to stare as I rounded the corner to the elevator.
But then I start thinking, well, what if I actually do have cancer? Or what if there really is a god and he has a sense of humor and this is his way of getting back at me for talking shit. Or say this is his way of telling me without coming right out. Mysterious ways and all that.
Nevermind... the song works.
The headache is back full-on tonight. Bad and getting worse.