Well, only worked 3 and a half hours, tonight. I found, about two hours into shift, that I appeared to be, as they say, "flying without a plane." The oral surgeon upped my dosage of pain relief to 800mg--and I found myself pain-free much of the night (alas, can't say that now), and very, very, erm---jolly.
I still made 3 sales...but the pain killer ceased working around half-past nine, so I figured it was time I ceased working as well, before it wore off before end of the night shift. Just in time, too. I got half-way home and was nailed by the pain again...now I'm typing like a pirate--one-eyed and frowning...my face is all swollen again. Dang. It's only maybe, the second or third time in my life, I've ever accidentally gotten, erm, stoned (I've never done drugs, just not my thing) on medicine.
I remember once, when I was about 21 or so, mum was driving me to my job at a local restaurant one morning, and when we got there, she told me I was too sick to work, ordered me to stay put in the car, and went into the place to tell the manager I wouldn't be working that day. Later that day, she told me she'd been driving by some houses--same one's we passed all the time, nothing special, just...ordinary houses....and I'd said something in the nature of "wow man! look at that house. It's white. Cool." I'm paraphrasing, as I don't remember this at all, but that's the gist of what mum told me I had said. What had happened is, I had a bad cough, and was having problems sleeping. There's this product here, called "Nyquil," sold over the counter, that supposedly both quiets your cough/congestion, and helps you sleep--well, found out it helps you sleep, because it contains just a wee bit of alcohol in it...and, without realizing it at all (I kept sipping it in my half-sleep state, during the night) that I'd drank nearly an entire bottle of the stuff--when you're only supposed to have one dram!
But, I did manage to do my job--more or less, tonight. I think. 
Someone took 30 cents in change and a pen from my cubicle. Cheap bastards. I keep a little change--always less than a dollar, by my computer, in case I don't have enough change for the soda machine in the canteen downstairs. Some people will take anything that's not nailed down.
There's this new guy at work--can't say why, but he's weirding me out a bit--he's got thick dark hair and a beard...looks almost like a villain from one of those old-time melodramas! Anyway, I swear, I was talking up a storm on the phone--well, I was a tad high, and, apparently, I'm quite talkative when I'm stoned (little things you learn about yourself as you get older)---and every time I glanced towards the window--which I just naturally always do (I'm a person who just enjoys looking out on the world) this new guy, I swear, was staring right at me! What's with that????
I mean, I wasn't, in all honesty, paying much attention to him--I really was just looking out at the city lights outside, like I always do.
It really weirds me out, when people repeatedly stare at me--not casually, but deliberately. I know I'm a tad ugly, but geez--a girl could get a complex!
