lust but not least

7 am. I wake up. My right eye is a pulsing bulge. Sealed with some dried secretion, the eyelids are itchy and swollen.
Unless the north witch has cast a spell while I was asleep, there must be a logical explanation for this, so don't panic girl and think:

Dad's name's not Polypheme, so being a cyclop is out of question
I'm not a boxer so any overnight fight must be cancelled from the list of the possible causes
I have no particular allergyes to anything but dust, red pepper and some weeds. And none of them affects my eyes, anyway.
I actually cried before getting to sleep, and this could explain the bulge, but not the sticky crap my eyelids are glued with..

Now it's 4 pm and I still don't have a clue. I used some eye wash and it worked quite well for the itchiness, but the meatball eye's still swoooooollen.

Even in this piratesque version I came to work thinking I would have tried to take it easy and not wear my eyes out in front of bleeding pc.
I mean, I have quite a load of work to do here and I thought I would have felt guilty if I had stayed home taking care of my misterious bacterical eye. I'll go to work and try to have a quiet day, I thought. Ha!

9.03. The King of Morons calls me

K.o.M- Ehm.....ehm.....er....
me - HELLO????
K.o.M - yeah... right.... hello. Have you done all I've asked you to do?
me (remembering our last conversation) - not yet, as I told you yesterday before leaving the office, I need some 4 hours... (For Christ's sake! It's 9.03 and I'm sure the only active neuron you have is the one you're using to piss me off like this!!!)
K.oM. - oh.. so you haven't done it yet, have you?
me (through clenched teeth and with the fakest of the smiles) - correct. 4 hours from now and it'll be ready. so, I'll send you everything by 1 p.m.
K.o.M - mmmmmm....1 p.m........ does that mean that I'll have an email from you by 1 p.m?
me (with my right eye itching and my left eye trembling from anger) - .....yes....
K.o.M - oh. so it'll take 4 hours from now, right?
me - (lying on the floor with my mouth full of greyish muddy foam) positive.

After 2 hours - yes my friends, 2 hours - he calls me again

K.o.M - er.....Phi?
me (you dialled MY number, asshole, who the hell do you want it to be, Roger Rabbit?) - yes..
K.o.M - Have you completed the job?
me - .......... (deep breath) ........... (silent prayer to the god of employees) ........... NO. NOT YET.
K.o.M - (disappointed) oh. And WHEN do you think you'll be able to send me an email, then?
me (while trying to steal my only good eye with a plastic spoon) - you'll have all you need (=a cruel death, an electroshock, one or two months with just my wages to make a living..) by 1 p.m. I must have forgotten telling you (I'm dripping sarchasm and I'm stunned that the phone is not burning)
K.o.M - ok ok ok (even more disappointed) but I don't want you to call me at 5 to 1 p.m. to tell me that you've had a problem and my file won't be updated because of it!
me - don't you worry. I've never ever told you anything like that... Why should I have troubles today (I mean, apart from the fact that I'll kill you and end my days in jail?) Your file will be perfect by 1 p.m.
K.o.M - I hope so
me - and I hope you'll get hit by a truck and that the truck driver will fuck the shit out of you before soaking you in petrol and lighting a match. bye.

ok, I may have added the last line. But wouldn't it have been a perfect punchline?