This morning I awoke to a dim light coming from the softly-glowing computer screen atop the messy, bill-covered desk in the corner of my bedroom. I looked at the alarm clock beside my bed, not remembering what time I had collapsed into comfort. Upon further inspection, I found that I had even failed to set my alarm clock. I decided to get up to see if I had finished the post upon which I was working. Finding only an unsaved draft-form report on the state of the site's surrogate navel, I decided to try to recollect how I had planned to conclude my report. Here's what I found:
11:00 p.m - I returned home awhile ago after spending a relaxing evening. My state was so placid, in fact, that I began feeling that my brain was somehow detached from my body, which had turned into a blob of amorphous protoplasm. How this blob hung onto the steering wheel of my car and directed it into my garage, I cannot be certain. I now picture this formless mass, which has somehow conformed to the chair in front of my computer, sort of rolling off the chair and wallowing around until it finds its way to the warmth and comfort between the sheets of my bed. My navel is merely along for the ride.Best I recall, I intended only to add: End of Report. Posted by Susan R at January 18, 2005 05:26 AM
When one has a state that is "placid," one might also have a "mass" that is "flaccid."
Posted by: Zaboon at January 18, 2005 12:24 PM