When It Became Over Powering

The loud beep, alerting of a text message, tore him from his slumber. He picked it up and squinted at the brightness, the screen read 1:45 pm. He opened the message and was surprised to see a topless brunette, he didn’t reply but figured he’d save it in case he couldn’t find a better lay for the night. He threw the covers off and realized he was still fully dressed, he shook it off and sat up on the bed. His head felt light as if it would float away at any second. He swung one leg over the bed then the other and stood, his knees felt week and the room was spinning. He forced his legs to move while using the walls as support. He finally made his way into the kitchen he forced down a couple of Tylenol.

His stomach was begging for food, his hands reached for the fridge handle. His stomach felt like it was in knots when he saw there was nothing but moldy cheese in his fridge. He suddenly realized how dry his mouth was; he needed a pick me up, something to help stop his hands from shaking. He grabbed his keys from the counter, and made his way to the front door. The sun made his head feel like it would explode; he retreated into his living room and picked up the sunglasses from the coffee table; as an afterthought picked a hat from the hall closet. He steadied himself enough to get to his car without having the neighbors think he was intoxicated. He started up the car and took a breath to convince himself he was okay to drive.