As a follow-up to my post about laughing too hard, I just need to point out that I'm not allowed to listen to Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me while driving.
Ever again.
Bad things happen when I laugh too hard.
Your Custom Text Here
As a follow-up to my post about laughing too hard, I just need to point out that I'm not allowed to listen to Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me while driving.
Ever again.
Bad things happen when I laugh too hard.
There were sounds around me – things being moved around. Music. Normal sounds for a house that has people in it. I had been thinking about something; what was it? I couldn't remember. It was like waking from a dream and trying to remember what you were dreaming about, but not quite able to do so. My head was on my arm on the desk and I listened to the music (my music) and the sounds filling the air around me, trying to piece things together. I stayed there for a few seconds, wondering. Trying to remember what brought me to this moment. I lifted my head up, a little groggy, and I was in front of my computer and the screen was unlocked with windows open. The air was warm and the music was coming from the computer; sounds were coming from my partner cleaning in the next room. I sat up. "What the hell just happened?" left my mouth and Barry stopped cleaning momentarily to look at me like I had lost my mind. "What's wrong with you?"
Nothing was wrong, per se, but I was curious as to why I had had my head on the desk and why I was in front of the computer in the first place. I hadn't actually been asleep; I knew that. My thoughts had blended with the ambient noise, like it happens when you're falling asleep. But, I had NOT been asleep. If I had been, then there would be no need for an explanation.
I looked at the computer and I saw that I had been working on my blog. That seemed familiar. It was coming back to me now. I had several tabs open, as usual, and one of them – as usual – was Facebook. I had been on Facebook. I had been laughing. My sister, my brother and I had been chatting and he had asked me an embarrassing question. I tried to change the subject, then ignore him and get back to work on my blog, but he kept asking. Then he posted a picture. I was laughing and laughing. Laughing so hard I couldn't write. I started to get thick-headed and I had laid my head down on my arm on the desk. That's what it was. That's how I had come to be in that position.
I've been on Atripla for many years now and I've written before of the effect they warn about on the bottle: "May make you dizzy". The same effect that tends to make me drunk the first time I eat on any given day. I've gotten light-headed before when laughing or straining (as in to pick up a heavy bag of soil.) But, I had never blacked out before. Even this time I didn't fall on the floor or anything – I had kept my balance and stayed in the chair, but when I came to (and that is a very accurate statement of how it felt) I had no idea what was going on, or how I got to be sitting there in that position. It even took me a few seconds to realize where I was. I noticed that all of my skin was covered in a layer of perspiration. Afterwards, and for the rest of the afternoon, the top of my head was a little tight. It didn't hurt exactly, but it felt like the skin on the tippy top of my head was, I don't know, being pulled. Like it was shrinking and pulling the rest of the skin on my head up a little bit. It felt a little tingly. I decided to have a lie-down, after letting my sister and brother know why I had stopped chatting. I was a little tired for the rest of the evening.
I'm not going to lie; it's a little disturbing. My sister told me that she hopes I never get the giggles while driving. I've gotten used to the intoxicated feeling that comes along after breakfast and I more or less plan my life around it. Sometimes there's nothing to do but lay down and sleep, though that's not an option at work. (Interestingly, at work I never feel like I need to lie down. I think that keeping myself busy helps. Not having a bed at hand helps.)
All in all, though, I can't complain. I mean, I'm alive. That's good, and it's thanks to Atripla. And, laughing is good. Maybe blacking out momentarily can be a little inconvenient, but it's not the end of the world. It's actually a little funny, if taken in the right context with the right company. My friends and family don't seem to mind. I think that in a perverse way I like it. I mean, not everybody can say that they laughed so hard they passed out. That's a good time, right there.
Search Rather Earnest Painter