Day who the fuck knows?

Due to what I will refer to as a fluke personification of my worst nightmare ever, I spent the past 2 days working in the projection booths in...less than desirable conditions. My dear co worker fell ill and while the cause is unknown, the effect was made painfully blatant. I want to preface this by saying if you know me well at all you have been made aware of my (somewhat in the past) crippling phobia of vomit and all things pertaining to gastrointestinal angst.

So imagine my chagrin when I arrived at work on Tuesday to vomit in 3 of the 5 projection booths and no warning about it. My co worker mentioned he had been vomiting uncontrollably and frequently (like every ten minutes) all day, but had neglected to mention any sickness in the booths. In the small, dark, unventilated booths. IMAGINE MY CHAGRIN. IMAGINE IT!

Two days. Two days I spent working, back erect, hands obsessively scrubbed, surfaces disinfected, nostrils flared, head hot with paranoia.

And I'll tell you right now, I'm fucking slipping. It's such a comfort to speak. It's such a damn comfort to speak words. To respond in kind- because it's obvious what's worth saying; what's most important. But it's the little things... The "mmhmmm's" and the "absolutely's" that add up to a rapport with someone and feeling connected to something. Sure, I can go to my boss and say, "I forgot to start this movie and it's now 15 minutes late." Which is important, but then I'm still left feeling disconnected.
And what's more, I don't want to spend all my time sitting at a table pantomining to whoever has the attention span to look at me for more than 10 seconds. I'm sick of crumpling up pieces of paper with no longer relevant responses and throwing up my hands in exasperation when I'm still trying to play charades to a dead topic of conversation.

So I took some time off and spoke a little bit here and there. It started when I went to the doctor (who thinks it's nodes, but isn't a specialist) and after I started, it became nearly impossible to stop. By the time I was faced with the vomit, I was like a little kid that needed soothing.

So in order to do that, I spoke.