I was fending off the pack of rabid dogs with a wet towel. Short sharp flicks: that was the way. I tell you, it's all in the wrist.
I decided to focus on the largest one. Their leader: the snarling Alsatian, with saliva dripping from it’s snapping chops. I allowed myself a smile: I was actually winning! A couple more vicious thwacks to the muzzle ought to do it.
"You’re pretty zonked, eh?" said the voice.
I cast my eyes around; the dogs sensed my confusion. I was in danger of losing my advantage.
"Been a long day, has it?"
My head snaps back violently, and I lurch myself forward to grip the desk and stop my fall. I look into the eyes of the man sat next to me. Disorientated. Confused.
I realise where I am.
I am in the Naughty Room. At work. Testing a participant.
I have fallen asleep.
I nearly just fell off my chair.
"I noticed your head bobbing back and forth."
I cast my eyes down to the desk and the laptop: the screen showing me that the computer task is finished. How long has it been finished though? How long was I out for? I try and rack my memory to work out what the last thing I remember being displayed on the screen was.
It feels like a very distant memory. In truth, I am still a little surprised to find myself here. I thought only Grandads pulled these sorts of stunts.
"Shit, sorry, sorry. Have you been waiting a while?"
"Nah, it’s okay. Have you been at this for a long time today then?"
"Twelve hours," I mutter shuffling some already ordered papers and trying to flex my facial muscles to stretch my eyelids open. Twelve long painful hours. And at least another one and a half to go.
I hope I didn’t snore.
5 weeks ago