The Day My Brain Took a Day Off

A hilarious tale of epic confusion, wrong messages, and one very angry chicken.

I don’t know what kind of cosmic joke the universe was trying to pull, but that Tuesday was definitely the day my brain decided to hit snooze on all logic and common sense.

It all started with an alarm that didn’t go off — or maybe it did, but in my dream, it was the theme song to Mission Impossible and I thought Tom Cruise would handle it. Spoiler: he didn’t. I woke up 45 minutes late, looking like I had just been kicked out of a wind tunnel.

I rushed to get ready like my house was on fire. Brushed my teeth with shaving foam (don’t ask), wore mismatched socks, and for reasons still unknown, sprayed deodorant in my mouth thinking it was breath freshener. Minty fresh? More like chemically choked.

Still, I made it out the door. Half-victory, right?

On my way to work, I realized I had forgotten my laptop. The laptop that had all the slides for my big presentation. I turned around like a Bollywood hero in slow motion — minus the background music and plus a lot of sweating.

When I finally reached the office, panting like a dog in July, my boss greeted me with, “You okay?”

I said, “Yes sir, just a little cardio before work.”

He said, “Your shirt is on inside out.”

I said nothing. Silence was safer.

Now here comes the real disaster.

During lunch, I decided to text my friend Sarah about my horrible morning. But thanks to my very smart smartphone, I accidentally sent the entire message to my boss instead.

Here’s what I typed:

"Bro, I swear if one more thing goes wrong, I’m going to fake a faint and crawl out of this office. Also, boss is wearing that 'I’m-better-than-you' tie again. I want to wrap it around a chair."

Five seconds later, a notification:

Boss: "Interesting plan. Let me know if you need help fainting."

I almost fainted for real.

I spent the next two hours trying to be invisible. I tried acting ultra-productive — typing random stuff like “potato pie punch presentation possible” just so the keyboard made noise. I even fake-laughed at the intern’s dad jokes.

But nothing could prepare me for what happened at dinner.

I was invited to my cousin’s house, and my aunt had cooked her “famous spicy chicken.” Let me tell you, that chicken wasn’t food. It was a weapon of mass digestion.

Not wanting to offend her, I took a big bite.

My mouth exploded. My soul left my body. My eyes teared up so bad I looked like I was going through a breakup. But I smiled and said, “Mmm, amazing!”

Then, like an idiot, I rubbed my eyes.

With the same hand.

That had touched the spicy chicken.

I screamed. Not inside. Outside. Loud.

Everyone thought I saw a ghost. My cousin threw water on me, my aunt started praying, and the neighbor’s dog started barking like I owed him money.

In the end, I went home with one burning eye, a bruised ego, and the sweet realization that my brain had completely abandoned me that day.

But you know what?

Sometimes you need a day like that. To laugh at yourself. To realize you're human. To know that even if your brain checks out for a few hours, life still moves on — with or without spicy chicken.

So here’s to bad days, dumb decisions, and stories that make great dinner table content.

And just in case you're wondering — yes, I now double-check my messages, label all my sprays, and avoid all ties with violent thoughts.

Mostly.