I need to faint. The movies make it look so easy. Someone hears a bad news and the next thing you knew, they were on the floor. But here I am, trying to faint, yet, only succeeding at staying conscious. I have only fifteen minutes till the deadline, fifteen minutes till the grating, shrill sound of the intercom rings. I hate the intercom.
I really need to faint. I wonder why I ever believed pressure was enough to cause a loss of consciousness. Ah, yes. The movies. And why would I believe something I watched on the glowing screen. They had also made love seem like something magical, something that just hit you out of nowhere, something your heart just felt. You did not even have to go looking for it. The universe brought it to you. Pow. That analogy almost got me into trouble. Foolish me, spent a long time waiting, pining for it. Ignoring every man that came my way, because they did not make my heart sing, or stir.
One day, the real universe had struck me with common sense and I decided to try to like, not love, one of my numerous suitors. I chose him because we enjoyed a lot of the same things. We hung out a lot, called each other and soon my heart began to sing, then soar and then, I knew I was in love. Finally, it sunk in, that love was a choice. A conscious commitment. Not just some “listen to your heart thing.” Even your heart needed your head to keep it going, sometimes. I smile as Tunde’s face comes to mind. I should call him. Wait! What am I doing? Thinking, thinking about Tunde, with a deadline snapping its jaw, growling, at me.
I peek, then glance, fully, at the laptop’s clock, etched at the right part of the blue band that runs across the bottom part of the screen. My heart shrinks, dies a little. Yet, still continues beating, still pumps life through my veins. Seven minutes more, the document stares back at me. Half complete, or incomplete. I prepare to be drenched in my boss’s spittle and fury.
How did I get here? I am a scientist, not some business analyst for crying out loud. This excites me in no way, it wounds me, kills me. Argh. Perhaps I would faint now. No, still conscious. I curse the country that forced me to do what I was averse to. Here, you either had to go with the business world, or suffer. Science was something only developed countries could afford. A luxury. I mean, what was the sense in carrying out a money gulping research, that could turn out unsuccessful at the end of the day, right? Wrong. Stupid. And that’s why we had to depend on developed countries to find a cure for our own diseases.
I look at the time again. Three minutes more. Time, that traitor, it runs when you need it to crawl; crawls when you need it to fly. Last week, I had had to wait an hour to get my pizza at the pizzeria. Sure, the watch had said ten minutes, but it was really an hour.
My eyes fall on the clock, again and I hold myself back from screaming. The intercom rings, and everywhere turns dark.
I wake up to white sheets, white curtains and green overalls. A machine beeps, and I look around, pensive. I relax when it all sinks in, smile, and lean back into the bed. The movies were right, for once. Ah!
Nb: still not certain that work related stress can cause a person a loss of consciousness. But I do wonder sometimes… This is purely for entertainment.