LET ME OUT!!! I arrived looking for an I.V. to relieve physical symptoms manifested by anger and deceit. After five days without food or water, somehow I got conned into buying rubber room real estate. K was there hugging my leg, then smiling, then hugging, then gone barely a mile away burning rubber all the way as a nurse had me taking a fistfull of pills.
The funniest moments came in my early captivity when counselors, social workers, security, and all were ROFL at K's secretely admitted (to a counselor) ambition to sustain multiple affairs and get a "real" job. We imagined exaggerations on previously used excuses (that I divulged) she would play out, which lightened the mood a bit. Sardo said it best..."Get it over with now and marry a portly rich man."
I laughed as hard as the rest, thinking I'd be out by morning and free as a bird. The joke was on me.
By morning the shift had changed and the only constant in this particular wing of the hospital was me. At first I couldn't figure out where I was when I woke up. When I got to figuring, I was mortified, then angry. I used the last few seconds of cell phone power to call into work and tell them I was in the hospital. I was indeed, and I knew this was serious. I'm locked in a rubber room with my own words of terror boomeranging me back in the face. I hate karma.
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