My Mask is a Sweater Vest, Which I Hide Behind in a Hollow Attempt to Blend Into this Society Called "Office"

I'm D-Y-I-N-G today. Just dying. I almost dropped to the floor and napped mid-sentence while talking to my boss. I was falling in and out of consciousness at my desk, which is fine. No harm, no foul there. But, then, I had to answer the phone and get up to tell him who was calling. Instead of waking me up, these actions somehow made my body even more sleepy. So, my eyes were doing funny things as I spoke to him. I ended up staring very intently at him, in order to appear awake. I'm sure it did not go unnoticed.

So, I'm just back from Peet's. Yes, the cute 20-25 year old was there. I avoided eye contact. I am wearing a sweater vest. And to make me feel even more old, the iced coffee is perking me up. My body has to be cajoled into acting alive. It doesn't do it naturally anymore, clearly. In high school, I remember bursting through every morning with a bounce in my step and yelling the lyrics of Freedom '90 (George Michael, natch) out my driver's side window all the way to school. Ok, maybe I'm being a little revisionist here. Not about the George Michael, but about the bursting. I was voted Most Tardy after all.

There's a Mexican restaurant on the first floor of my office building called Andale. I pass it every time I go to Peet's, so I pass it daily. And every time I see it, I imagine a little mouse with a sombrero running by waving his hands in the air. I think he's one Mexican I have a lot in common with. He's very excitable and runs from one thing to the next getting super worked up about everything. How ADD of him. Speaking of my heritage, I've also been reading Paz's Labyrinth of Solitude. In it, he psychoanalyzes the Mexican character. A lot of the traits he expounds on I tend to identify with too, but they're traits that are pretty general. It's kind of like reading your horoscope. Basically, he says we wear masks and like to party a lot. I am QUITE the Mexican.