1:51 p.m. - 2006-03-22
Fugitive
It's my dear, dear friend Lisa's birthday today. Happy Birthday, Lisette! Most of my friends have never met her, since she lives on the west coast, but most of my friends know her as "PETA Lisa."
To celebrate the occasion, I sent her a card, along with my leftover Xanax (since it's verboten during the pregnancy). Really, what better way to say "you're special" than with your leftover prescription sedatives? I was a little nervous about sending them through the mail (cleverly wrapped inside some toilet paper and shoved inside the birthday card; that'll fool 'em), but whatever. I had intended to send the card without a return address, just as an extra precaution, but because I was late, as always, I had to overnight it at the post office Monday, and the counter guy was insistent about having a return address.
Monday night, as I was drifting off to sleep, I was suddenly panicked by a vision of drug-sniffing mongrels howling next to my envelope, and then having police appear at my office to arrest me on Tuesday. I wrote it off as paranoia and fell asleep. Then Tuesday morning, while at my desk, a co-worker popped into my office to let me know that a sheriff was here to see me. The blood drained from my extremities and I was sure I was going to have a heart attack. I bit the bullet and headed to the lobby, where Officer Friendly awaited me... but he was here to arrest someone else! And she doesn't even work here anymore. Oh, thank god for other people's inability to be law abiding. (Side note: in case you're wondering, nope, that wasn't the first time someone has shown up to arrest an employee. Doesn't happen a lot, but yep, it happens. At your job, too, right?)
Anyway, I'm feeling completely ill from my enormous yet delicious lunch of sichuan green beans and rice, so it's back to the workers comp mess I'm trying to sort out to hopefully distract me from my distended stomach.
