Carboxyhemoglobin

Carboxyhemoglobin. This is my new pet ailment. But before I delve into the richness and depths of my Hypochondriatic nature (capitalized because while I'm pretty sure it's not a word, I think it may be the proper name of a small Sea located somewhere in the Balkans), I'll begin with rainbow sprinkles.

An additional glory of temp work is that most companies in NYC that can afford to hire temps tend to be the most wealthy and successful ones, and therefore tend to offer many perks to their employees. Case in point for my current position: breakfast and lunch.

And I'm not talking about some crappy continental breakfast from the Comfort Inn. This morning's breakfast-horn-of-plenty consisted of bagels, fruit, toast, cereals, danishes, additional assorted pastries, and of course, donuts.

This normally would not have to been to large a problem, except I haven't been feeling so hot lately, which I've assertively attributed to my current residence in proximity to an expansive freeway overpass, resulting in carbon monoxide poisoning and Carboxyhemoglobin. ("ooh, I thought that cleared up...")

So to fight this invasive and pernicious beast from my life I've been trying to eat well and exercise right, which also has to do with the fact that I've been so busy I've become terribly lazy and my belly has begun protruding. But wouldn't you know it. After a great workout last night and an even greater healthy dinner, I begin my morning with rainbow sprinkles.

They're just so damn good.

The white coated icing makes me think of my face pressed smearingly across the glass at a Krispy Kreme, and I can imagine the process of slowly releasing the rainbow sprinkles onto the still moist icing. I imagine doing it myself actually, in a fit of pure glee, like floating through clouds in a dream, and after coating each donut I toss a handful of sprinkles into the air and wonder which I enjoy more, the ones that successfully reach my opened mouth or the ones that playfully fall against my smiling tilted face...

Sorry, had a moment there...

Returning to my condition. After stuffing my face with donuts I retreated behind my desk and mistakenly began researching air purifiers, which collectively have been sentenced online as largely non-effective; smoke-detectors; carbon-monoxide detectors; and radon test kits.

I even called my mother who was a nurse for a short time years ago, and explained my condition of carbon-monoxide poisoning resulting in my exhaustion and shortness of breath. (It had to either be that or West-Nile virus from a recent mosquito bite I received on Fire Island.)

She responded that the culprit was more likely the fact that I didn't sleep Sunday night and instead spent it drinking out of doors along a beach, and have proceeded to yet really make up for that lack of sleep.

A likely story, I'm heading to Home Depot in exactly 90 minutes for my carbon-monoxide detector, and I've decided to spend the extra $30 for a digital display that will tell me at will the precise level of CO in our home ranging from 30-999 parts-per-million (PPM). I have a feeling our home is closer to the 999 range. I feel faint.

I can already tell with both excitement and anxiety, which should help define my psychosis, that for the next several weeks I'll most likely wake three times a night in a sweated panic and rush to the detector. In fact, I imagine myself after a mere several days ripping the device from the wall so that I can test all four rooms in the apartment then input the readings into an ongoing Excel chart and spreadsheet before being able to sleep properly.

I'll attach the results here later. In the meantime I better go, I haven't checked the UV levels for today yet and I'll be outside in under 85 minutes.