HowTo:Go to Work on Drugs - Part 2
Welcome to HowTo:Go to Work on Drugs - Part 2. If you're here, you probably read Part One, although you may not remember doing so. Regardless, rest assured that you're among friends now and we're going to talk you through this.
Arriving at work[edit | edit source]
Since Part One helped talk you out of bed, through the dancing squid fields and all the way to your car, it is assumed that you are now at work. Why did we skip the drive? We didn't. You probably don't even remember the drive. We can't. Moving on... If you are one of the many Americans who works in the service sector of the economy, it is possible that you may yet make it through the day. If you work with heavy machinery, make peace with your God now.
Getting in[edit | edit source]
Locate your parking place and turn off your car. Then, find your way inside the building through the most inconspicuous fashion possible. If the door you come up to is locked, just stand it front of it looking all nonchalant until someone opens it for you.
If you are on ether or alcohol, you are probably having trouble walking. In fact, you probably drove into a telephone pole fifteen feet from your house. In any case, always pretend that whatever situation you are in is the one you want. Maintain this attitude until you come down or they take your mugshot, whichever comes first.
If you make it inside the building, take stock of the people you normally talk to on your way in, if any (Fig. 1). Greet them with a quick wave. Avoid becoming fascinated with your hand while it is up. Figure out where you work and/or what it is you do. If unable to remember, find an empty cardboard box and walk around the halls with it until 5 p.m.
Pretending to work[edit | edit source]
Find the device you normally operate and unplug it. Call the repair people, who will spend the next hour or two trying to fix it. When the loose plug is discovered, blame the cleaning crew. After that, start a conversation about the local sports team. If you're starting to sober up/come down, do so disdainfully.
Tangent[edit | edit source]
Now that your confidence is back, you will need to converse with those closest to you (Fig. 1). I mean literally. DO NOT CALL YOUR PARENTS. Discussing things you are enthusiastic about is to be avoided, to prevent the tendency to ramble or rant and occasionally allow breaks for people to respond (this can help them to remind you what you were talking about later in the conversation). Be careful though, if you get too relaxed you may end up digressing into a tangent. Even the slightest distraction and the fog will start to thicken in your head, so concentrate on what you opened with and maintain . If this doesn't work, briefly wrap up the conversation and find sanctuary in a locked toilet cubicle.
The tangent is such a profound thing that it can take over even when there is no conversation at all! One moment you've noticed a new poster in the coffee area. Minutes later you (and probably others around you) notice that you've been staring into space for five minutes and you're thinking about what you're having for tea. Resist the temptation to either chuckle at this dilemma or congratulate yourself for noticing.
Actually Doing Stuff[edit | edit source]
God help you, but you may actually be called upon to do some work. Failure to do so may blow your cover. Try to remember what it is you do, then try and do it. If all else fails you need reclusion, retreat to a dark corner (under your desk) and try to forget about this scenario and let the effect of whatever is affecting you take hold, ride it out until you're able to remember what possible reason you've entered this building for.
If you can't, either say you're really tired or have food poisoning, or you're really tired because of the food poisoning.
Coming down[edit | edit source]
Eventually, the bright lights and crashing noises should fade, unless you work at a circus, in which case they will simply dim. Congratulate yourself and accept applause from the talking frogs. You're home free!
Or are you?