The Booger Conundrum Fiasco


Here’s the story of the universe, Easter, and a lack of sleep.

Do you ever find yourself in the dilemma of how to get rid of an inconvenient booger at work? You see, you could go to the bathroom to relieve your nostrils of the menace, but realistically, you usually don’t have that option. Deadlines to meet, you don’t have the time, man. You have to free the booger, ASAP. So you find yourself thinking up creative ways to fix the problem. You start by blowing, but you can only do it for so long before your colleagues start to question your sanity. And obviously, you run the risk of getting your computer screen splattered and having to clean your mucus of someone else’s computer monitor, which is a situation you don’t want to find yourself in. There’s no use, really. You have to pick covertly. Do it so quick no one can see you. But if you miss your shot, you’re screwed. And it’ll bug you until it frees itself and falls out at the most inopportune moment. Like when your boss shows up and asks you how things are going. “Oh yeah, really swell”. Silence. Booger. Aww, huckleberries.

It’s a challenge in life you’re never ready for, no matter how many times it happens. One of those really large boogers, with sharp edges that makes your eyes water. So large if you try and fail to free it, the sharp edges tear your nostril and blood starts flowing. Which, on the plus side, does mean you’re excused to go to the bathroom. But on the downside, having low blood sugar as I do, once you start bleeding, it just doesn’t stop. So your boss wonders where you are. He finds out you’re in the bathroom. He goes to the bathroom to check on you, as any good boss would. And there you are, toilet paper up your nose, leaning over a sink full of blood. It’s not a great image, especially if it’s your first day.

Tiredness is another one. So not used to early starts. You know you’re not getting enough sleep when these ‘micro-sleeps’ occur. There’s no scientific term for them and no studies have been done on them, but we’ve all experienced them. You’re on the bus or the train, and you drift off and can’t fight it. Means you’re body is very tired. I wonder what it makes one when one has one of these ‘micro-sleeps’ when one is walking to work. Fair enough if you’re not moving, but when you’re walking? How does that happen? I suppose the plus side is that I live in a typical Victorian Yorkshire town. If I fall over to one side after drifting off, which is entirely plausible, at the very worst, I’ll fall onto a brick masterpiece. If I lived in all modern Manchester, which is all glass and steel, I’d fall onto a wall of glass and probably disturb a board meeting with my squished face. “ARRRRGH! THE WALKING DEAD! KILL IT!”

There’s actually a lad where I’m working who falls asleep every day about four times an hour. Fair enough, but he’s a heavy snorer. I did wonder if he has that condition where you fall asleep all the time, but he drives to work. So he can’t. He just must be really bored. Even I struggle to stay awake. And I don’t drink coffee. What? It’s disgusting. I live in North Yorkshire. You don’t drink coffee around here. Drinking coffee is as a ridiculous notion as a sober Irishman…

You’d think I should get to bed earlier but meh, it doesn’t work like that. If your body gets used to the same old routine it’s not gonna change. Even if you take all the precautions in the universe to stop the habit being unbroken, you’re still gonna slip back into it. I’ve fallen out of the attic through the open hatch on three occasions. I tried to be more careful but it didn’t stop the inevitable. In fact, before the third occasion, I’d guessed the probability of it happening was fairly evitable. Heck, I’d fall out of it even if I were not up there. Don’t know how. The universe would find a way, I suppose.

In a similar way, the universe finds a way to make me tired. So used to going to bed in the wee hours of the morning am I, that when I started this work experience, my body refused to go to sleep until those early hours. ‘Ah’, I thought, ‘a good old-fashioned ten o clock early night’. Three hours later. “WHY WON’T YOU GO TO SLEEP YOU USELESS SACK OF CRAP!” And then, at one minute gone one, I started to drift off. I’m on my third week, and still, that bloody useless body of mine will not switch off. I’ve tried everything and accepted I’m never going to sleep earlier than my brain wants to. So I’m left walking to work each morning with the occasional ‘micro-sleep’. It’s as much of a conundrum as the booger fiasco.

I’ve been working hard and enjoying what I do. It’s not a conventional workplace, far from it, but it’s nice to be around people for a change. When you’re shy, you spend most of your time by yourself or avoiding people, because it’s easier than going through the hell of talking to them. You actually forget how much you need other people in your life. Just little things make the world of difference. A ‘hello’ in the morning is nice. ‘How are you?’ Being useful for once, which makes a change as I’m useless most of the time. You know, like I mentioned earlier with the shed roof. Did I mention the shed roof? Oh no, it was the attic hatch. No, I fell through the shed roof before I first fell out of the attic. Always getting those two mixed up. Both hurt, that’s the point. Probably.

I was actually excited to have the four-day public Easter holiday we get here in the UK. Everyone is off work. Yea. Friday morning. Good Friday. A day off and a nice lie-in. RING! RING! RING! ‘Oh, sod off’. ‘Well’, I thought. ‘It’s bright out, must be getting on in time, I’ll just check the clock – oh, no, half eight? That’s only half an hour later than I got up yesterday. Dagnabbit’. Can’t complain too much, Australia calling. Someone from Australia. Not, not the country. Well, Good Friday is a day of penance. I suppose waking me up four hours earlier than I had intended was the universe’s way of forcing a penance on me. Bloody universe.

Saturday morning. Ah. Nice lie-in. RING! RING! RING! ‘Oh, ever since when was Easter Saturday a day of penance?’ I don’t know who that was, and yes, it was even earlier, eight o clock, but at least I got back to sleep fairly quickly. Eight o ten. RING! RING! RING! “**** YOU, YOU STUPID ******* UNIVERSE YOU ****** UP PIECE OF ******* STEAMING ****!” Don’t wake me up in the morning! I’m like a woman who’s been – woken up in the morning.

Easter Sunday. Ten o clock mass. Eight o clock start. No lie-in there. But the next day, my final day off? Well, God only knows what the universe has in store for me on Easter Monday. But I’ll tell you this, readers, if it even dares to wake me up early with a telephone call on that day, I’m going to shove the telephone up the universe’s nether-regions.

Happy Easter, everyone!

American novelist, short story writer and essayist, the late great king of science fiction, Philip Kindred Dick (1928-1982), once said: “If you think this universe is bad, you should see some of the others.”

Peace Out :|:

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. You can leave a comment and/or like this post below, or by clicking the title on the top of this post if you are on the archives page. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks.

Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other two blogs:

To Contrive & Jive
New Posts Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday
Click Here to Read the Latest Post

Hark Around The Words
New Posts Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday
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