Dumb-Bitch-Itis
The trials and tribulations of a delusional druggie.
"Until death did you part from the mess you made" - Frank Ocean.
Listen up! One day, you're going to wake up and feel a little ill, anxious, and perhaps, confused. Your pupils might be dilated and you'll be a little feverish, causing your coworker, Trevor, to place his hand firmly on your head and diagnose you with the ever-so-dreaded: Dumb-Bitch-Itis.
This isn't typically contagious, and happens to the best of us, but will strip you of all your common sense, causing you to act like a dumb bitch. Will you have any integrity left after it's over? This depends on how long your sickness continues.
Mine started when I considered dating in the work place at all. But come on, we've all done it, and I've actually had some rewarding experiences before this one. So, I gave myself a break. Let's cut to the first time this guy Nick and I hung out. I invited him to a friend's birthday and he pleaded with me to give him all of my excess painkillers, from a prior surgery I'd had. He needed to be high, to not be shy. HA! Strike two. So, what did I do? Of course, I gave him all of my painkillers, so he could have a good time. As observant and in tune with things, as I am, I already felt an onset of Dumb-Bitch-Itis.
5 Signs you may have Dumb-Bitch-Itis:
# 1: Your heart rate has increased, significantly, and constantly.
# 2: Your friends start to give you "the look."
# 3: You finish a lot of sentences with, "I'm sure he didn't mean that."
# 4: Your best friend sends you the definition of integrity, as a wake-up text.
# 5: You may or may not feel crazy.
Why would I pay any attention to that though, when he won all of my friends over with his charm?
He partied harder that night than Paris Hilton, the night she got arrested. I thought maybe it was just a Chicago thing. The next day at work, when he told me that my painkillers were too weak, I thought, "dude, if I took a whole one, I could end up in Tijuana and have no idea how I got there. How can you take 7, and call it weak?"
We begun to hang out on the daily; he said he loves having "friends that are girls," and started calling me his best friend. Ain't nobody got time for that! I had enough best friends, but sure, why not. Let's get our nails done and shit. The closer we got, the more he opened up to me about going to prison for selling drugs; I thought how noble he was, for changing his life for the better...or so I thought, until all of his stories involved him being high. I kept trying to not judge, and even let little things slide. Who cares if he didn't know what a domestic beer was? I don't mind teaching 31 year olds certain words.
Turns out, I'd have to teach him a hell of a lot more, which came free of charge for him, but cost me a lot more than I bargained for.
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