I, Mutant: Part 2
Guess whose back with a brand new rant, got everyone on the web going...”Eh? Who are you, again?” Look me up, and you'll find out...or you won't. It really doesn't matter. Like it or not, I'm here and I've got yet another minor life annoyance that I just have to share with the world at large in the vain belief that my pain is your entertainment, nay, your devotional mission in life to bear witness to. Am I delusional, probably, but here you are reading me, and here I am growing ever stronger because of it.
All seriousness aside, it's been a while since I've done one of these, so I hope I'm not rusty. My pet peeve of the week is a recently discovered ailment of mine that just goes to prove that my life is cursed to be abnormally ironic. If you do remember me, you'll remember that I once did a little rant called I, Mutant in which I expounded my recent revelation that I was among the mutated elite, much like the X-men of comic book legend...expect, not at all like the X-men in any way shape or form. Where as they have cool, powerful abilities that allow them to do amazing things, I was blessed with a blood clotting disorder that is supposed to be genetic but is present in no one else in my family. Hence, it's a mutation in my DNA, hence, I am a mutant.
Now, flash-forward however many years it's been since that rant—yes, I'm too damn lazy to look it up—and I've discovered another problem in my body with which I should not be afflicted. Granted, this latest annoyance is not technically a mutation, but it still fits my purpose of bitching and moaning to you lot. I recently discovered that I suffer from sleep apnea, a condition in which a person's breathing becomes erratic, lessened or halted altogether during sleep. This condition can lead to such things as heart failure and strokes in the elderly, and chronic fatigue and drowsiness in everyone. It occurs most often in people over forty and overweight. I, at 5'10, 180—the same weight I've been since high school—and six years shy of forty, do not fit any of the standard criteria for this condition. So how the ***k do I qualify for this prize? Is my name perpetually placed in a lottery of genetic aberrations, or am I unconsciously playing in a sick version of wheel of fortune, in which all the slots are scrambled DNA codes? Am I like Benjamin Button, who starts out old but grows younger as time goes on? I'd like that last one, except I'd hate to hit anti-puberty and have all my body hair slowly regress into my body, along with other part of me that normally extend because of puberty.
Whatever the case, I have this condition, which actually explains a lot. I've always joked that I could fall asleep at the drop of a hat. No one's ever actually dropped a hat in front of me to see if I could pass out before gravity took the hat in question all the way to the ground, but I still maintain that my sudden unconsciousness would beat any headwear to the floor any day of the week. Apnea can effect memory and concentration, and makes it difficult to stay seated for any period of time without dozing off. Which sucks because I'd just gotten used to the idea that my inability to work at a desk or in an office or in front of a computer of any kind was the result of plain, old fashion laziness, and that my tendencies toward sloth was just me being a loser. I'd accepted this fact, learned to embrace it, even had t-shirts made that said....Nothing, because I was too lazy or busy sleeping to actually produce any t-shirts.
What was my point again? Sorry, apnea. I forget things. Hey, this condition may come in handy after all. I can blame anything on my apnea. Hell, I might even call it a power now. “I'll speed through this boring car ride using my APNEA POWERS!” Or, “Using my APNEA POWERS, I will make even the longest phone conversation last only seconds.”
Much like my blood clotting power, I wish I could turn this power around to be used upon other people. It'll be great if I could make other people fall asleep at a drop of a hat. I'd get into movies for free by knocking out the attendant at the ticket booth, I'd knock out my bosses so they didn't catch me goofing off at work, and I'd walk through the most dangerous streets in the world, secure in the knowledge that if anyone tried to mess with me, I could render them unconscious before they could throw a punch.
Instead of that, I get a penchant for sleep walking, sleep driving and sleep talking. Let me tell you something, it may sound like fun to babble away in an unconscious stupor in the middle of the night, but when you have no idea what you're saying to your wife, you have no way of knowing why you wake up on the wrong side of a locked door with a teaspoon of cream cheese floating in a cup of water. And as for sleep driving...I hope that tree has a damn good lawyer.
If you haven't figured out by now that I'd lost my actual point and, thus, my reason for writing this rant in the first place, maybe you should get yourselves checked out for sleep apnea as well. So I think at this point I should stumble toward my big wrap up. I've been practicing it. Like to read? Here it goes:
Among my list of mutations so far, are early onset of Glaucoma, a dark patch of hairy brown skin on my upper arm, the ability to clot my own blood to stroke-causing levels, and now sleep apnea, a condition most prominent in older, heavier people than myself. I couldn't be a more perfect poster child for inbreeding if I had one eye and two mouths. Why couldn't I have a really cool mutation, like in the comics and in the movies? All of my powers are so lame as to be harmful only to myself. What kind of mutation is sleep apnea anyways? The best I can do with that is propel myself into a coma at the slightest hint of danger, and hope that the danger thinks that I'm already dead and leaves me alone...my God, I'm a human possum! I'm a God damn, human possum, except I don't just fall asleep when endangered, I fall asleep EVERYWHERE! Why couldn't I have just have had a tail? And not the vestigial kind, but an actual, functioning tail, with muscles and tendons and cartilage, one I can use to whip people in the face who bother me, or even just those who are not mutated, inbred coma-victims like myself.
So for all of you out there who think it's cool to have kids with your cousins, try a stranger, the chances are greater that you'll have a normal, non-mutant offspring who will not grow up to write several rants about how retarded his DNA is and bore the living crap out of anyone who happens upon his blogs.
Wait, did I mention I was inbred? I'm sure I must have at some point? Maybe I'm thinking about another rant. Maybe I dreamed that I did. Who knows....apnea!