I have on my Jimmy Durante nose. I have eaten a whole box of raisins. The stereo is blaring “We Are the World.” A spring-like breeze spills into my open bedroom window. Yes, it is that time again: time to remove my leopard-print thong from its protective case and slip it on. And do a little Irish jig in front of the mirror.
Before I do, though, I will finish off this last piece of peach pie.Yummy.
I am dancing now. Wheeeeee! Look at me go!
Last night, I got lost on the way to the bathroom to take a pee. I woke up standing in front of the toilet, and at first, nothing looked familiar. When I realized where I was, I wondered if I had even pee ‘d. The water in the bowl looked unsullied. Maybe I flushed. I couldn’t say, only I didn’t feel the urge to anymore. Maybe while sleeping, I dreamed I had to pee, but really didn’t, and once positioned there in front of the toilet, I didn’t bother going back to bed. Who knows. I tried to anyway, just in case.
I usually do OK on this nightly trips. But I do wonder how it is I successfully navigate the short distance to the bathroom and perform this rather complicated action while half, or fully, asleep. I wonder if I could somehow harness that for work–put in a good 8-hours of snooze time during the day without anyone realizing it. It could all be a beautiful dream instead of a waking nightmare. Then I could stay up all night tinkering with my ham radio (literally–a radio made entirely of ham) and watching reruns of Knight Rider.
Hey, what if everyone else is ALREADY sleeping during the day. Maybe I am tha’ sucka here. That would explain all of those glassy-eyed stares and sudden jerky movements S. and P. make in meetings. I suspected Tourette’s because, well, when one has a lazy mind, it is easy to suspect Tourette’s in everyone, even oneself. As a rule, I ALWAYS suspect Tourette’s, even when it is unwarranted (and it usually is). But no–it isn’t Tourette’s. It is only that the entire working world is slumbering while I slave away, fully conscious, rolling my stone UP the hill, and then watching it roll all the way back down.
I just got a chill. I am afraid I was too eager–it is not thong weather yet. I must be patient.
I’m pretty freakin’ sure I have Tourette’s. Yup. That and some weird degenerative, as-yet-undiagnosed disease. Because I only sleep at night.
I knew it. It was those unprovoked, explosive bouts of expletive-laced invective that gave you away. And the repetitive head-bobbing.
You saw that?!