It always happens in the weirdest of situations.
You're just minding your own business, doing your work.
And you're on a conference call, let's say and you are typing and all of the sudden the keys on your keyboard are just a little bit too soft and are taking a little extra effort to hit. You slowly gaze down, and notice that your fingers look normal, but why do they feel like cement bricks on the end of your arms?
Then, you notice it. Your heart, it is pumping so loud you can hear the blood in your face, it's pooling in your cheeks. You look around and your eyes take longer than usual to adjust to your surroundings. Blurred vision and sticky eyes.
You try and swallow between the cotton threads that have conveniently replaced you tongue, teeth, throat and entire fucking mouth. When you get what little saliva has remained in your mouth you feel the backlash, vicious heartburn.
Water. You need water. GET water.
More. Drink more.
Its the magical cotton that only exists where your mouth once was.
You're so high.
Someone asks you a question on the conference call and this is what your answer is:
Correct and move on.