Serene Velocity

With quavering voice and trembling hands, I amble to the podium. My small audience grows hazy before me, like a fleshy mirage. They're wearing smiles, but could just as easily be bearing fangs. Public speaking ranks ahead of death, gays and single mothers as the worst phobia imaginable among the general public. I have a speech to give today, which is why I took Atenolol for breakfast, washed down with coffee. My stomach hates me.

Atenalol, and Propanolol belong to a class of drugs called Beta-blockers. It's quite useful from preventing the flood of adrenaline that so often accompanies speaking, attending social situations, performance reviews at work, and watching Fox News. The best part is that it's short-lived, and, unlike Propanolol, doesn't cause drowsiness. It's not Xanax, or Valium. I'm still able to operate heavy-machinery, or pilot an F-14. Interestingly, it has been administered to returning soldiers, since it's also been shown to reduce the severity of PTSD, by lessening the memory imprints that cause the affliction. It's now two hours from speech time, and you know what? I think I might ace the thing.