Running Away

Two days straight of working with an extremely runny nose and that bad cold body ache with head fog. Tuesday I figured it would pass. It didn't and I spent all day grabbing paper towels and shop rags. So I came prepared for Wednesday. I learned a trick from my grandfather; hankies. They are soft on the nose and at the end of the day you just leave them in your pocket to do with the laundry. Half way through my shift the over-sized Harley bandana I was using as a snot rag was soaked with the liquid drippings from my nasal passages. But with a hankie, you've always got room for more. So I kept using it. Three-quarters of the way through the shift the dampness of the hankie started to seep through my pocket. Just keep on blowing. So now I've got a filthy hankie and a wet pocket and my nose still runs.

Thus this turns into a mild rant on blue laws. I could really use a bottle of whiskey right now. Scotch, Irish, Windsor, hell even bourbon would do. Instead I have to settle for a big old glass of gin and juice. The vitamin C will do me good, but from my past experiences, whiskey is my cure for the common cold. But bars (smokey) close at 2:30am, the same time I get off of work. Liquor stores close at 9:00pm. Criminal! I have to suffer this cold for another night because some puritans don't agree with my methods of self-medication. And I can't use marijuana to deal with the bodyaches even though I live in a so-called medical marijuana state. It would require me to get a doctor's recommendation, which they won't give for a cold. I would then need to pay an outrageous fee to register as a medical marijuana user. But the sale of it is still illegal, so I couldn't buy any from a legitimate source, just black market. And all of that is moot because being a medical marijuana patient in no way exempts you from work place drug tests, and my employer, like most manufacturing jobs, has a drug testing policy. What kind of backwards, reactionary world do we live in when a man can't medicate himself in the way he sees fit? Like abortion, it is MY choice.

I've heard it often said that dope fiends never get sick. They get the heroin high, and then the subsequent crash, but never actually ill. If true, I would think employers would want to hire more heroin addicts. Nobody calling in sick!

But in the foggy haze of the sinus cold, I had a very important revelation. There was a machine that I worked on that could run just fine as long as the operator was away, like on break or getting mop water or some-such. I ran off several hundred feet of good chain this way. But then she would return and it would go to hell again. Mind you, I was still operating the machine. It was just her presence. She's a nice gal, but today was not a good day for her and the machines. I watched over and over as she would draw near and the machine would start to malfunction. As she left, it got better. Thus I got to have a practical application of one of the main truths of quantum physics. There is no separating the observer from the event. By observing, we become a participant. I try to remember this when I read the news. It helps. But this kind of first hand demonstration really hit it home. Of course folk wisdom was on top of this long before. A watched pot never boils.

My nose is still very runny, but at least it resulted in practical wisdom.