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May 31, 2008

On my way to work the other morning, I noted that there were three of four pretty girls in white lab coats handing out samplers of asprin populating the Commercial Sytrain station.

This seemed dramatically wrong to me in all sorts of ways.  The first off is that they’re handing out painkillers that are, yes, available over the counter, out to people without assessing them at all.  In my mind, painkillers should be out of reach for pretty much everyone who the doctor doesn’t certify to be in an Official Shitload Of Pain.  Somehow the difference between charging for over-the-counter painkillers and giving them away free is sufficient to bother me.

Then, really, the fact that we live in a society and culture wherein it is assumed that people communiting to work will have need of painkillers, and on a weekday – they’re not trying to clear up Monday morning blahs or drown a weekend-long hangover under a tide of unnatural chemicals.  It was Wednesday morning, for fuck’s sakes.  …  We live in a society where it is assumed that people on their way to work on a Wednesday morning will have demand for Asprin.

Finally, and more personally, I considered taking a box – I was in a shitty state; it was 8:15, I’d been up ’till 2:30 that morning at a show, and now loving the world.  But I reconsidered.  I deserved every bit of that headache, I’d abused my body over that past week, I’d been regularly pushing far beyond my limits for weeks consistantly,  I’d been up ungodly late that night, I’d damn well earned that headache, and I would wear it, if not with pride, with honour.  It had been worth it, I’d had fun, and if I couldn’t pay the price, I shouldn’t have been out in the first place.

That headache, folks?  That headache is a sign you’ve done something bad to your body.  Listen to it.

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