Reading this again before posting...

So my friends think that an alien ship abducts me and drops me off at a fun spot, leaving me with enough alien cash for entrance and entertainment (and the club accepts alien quaatloos as legal tender).

Once there I float in a bath of liquid morphine so that I can dance with no pain. And I leave wearing a large false mustache and blonde wig so that if anyone from work sees me they won't wonder why I can go out partying but can't make it in to work. Well, duh, the workplace isn't filled with liquid morphine! FIX IT! Or I'll call the disability rights people... Ergonomic workstations, my *****.

At the end of the night I hitchhike home with a kind stranger. I can stick out my thumb easily because the liquid morphine bath has not worn off yet. If no "kind strangers" stop for me I am still OK because eventually the Friendly Care van will show up either 28 hours late or 49 hours early to take me to Partial Hospital.

Once home, I can't spend leftover quaatloos on food (because Pathmark won't accept them) but its OK because while I was out, little yellow elves filled my pantry and fridge with homemade pierogies, peanut butter, Challah, bagels and cream cheese. Fresh milk and eggs were left by the aliens from the experiments on farm animals they conduct.

And the heat from the thrusters of the space ship warmed my attic air when they took off, and the residual heat keeps me warm while I have no domestic heating in my house because I can't pay the oil bill.

I have also found that the funny looking alien with the glasses, Fontelray, has done all finished balancing my budget for me while I was out. Unfortunately, as their alien math is based on a non-euclidian, base 12 geometry, all of the totals are listed in their strange alien symbolic system, so most of my balances look like cartoon-strip curse words. I sigh and go to bed, because I will have to get up early to start over on them. But I thank Fontelray for the effort, at least he tried to help, put in the effort, and got me out of the house for something fun... more than any of the others did. But they can rest easy now, because they put in their mandatory phone message (whew! They missed me!!!) and they know (assume) that since I didn't answer that I am in good hands with a night out with the martians.