Myself

It’s surprising, to know you’re not yourself. A conflagration of differing influences took me over today. My touch of asthma kicked itself into high gear; couldn’t figure out why until I learned the state I was passing through was on fire. This added to an off and on stomach ache troubling me this last week. Days of driving were taking their toll, a refreshing night’s sleep working little to refresh me this morn.

And to top it all off, I was hungry. You know those Snickers’ commercials? They are based off of me. I am not myself when I am hungry, and like a pathetic Hulk, I seem to lose any ability to communicate clearly after my transformation. All I could manage to put together was, “I am hungry.”

The rest of my company didn’t quite understand this, for it was assumed that phrase had no other meaning behind it than its face value. A closer translation to what I was saying would be, “If we do not get food immediately, there will be a reckoning. Do not try me.”

I am not myself when I am hungry, or tired, or can’t breathe, when I feel every pulse pounding inside my head like a drum.

It was only after I ate, after sitting quietly awhile, that I knew myself again, and knew the state I had been in.