I go into the grocery store and there's a big sign by the carts; "No kids in carts!" I get a cart and sure enough there's a kid in it. (3 days ago)

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Feb
3

knuckle-deep in the night

It occurred to me last night as I stared up at the ceiling that I spend a lot of time awake in the middle of the night staring up at the ceiling. Maybe it’s part of being an adult. I always wonder how many of my neighbors are awake and staring up at their ceilings. It’s like a silent club we all belong to. Use to be that people would get up at 3 a.m. and go online to some chat room but then everyone discovered that people are just as dull as 3 a.m. as they are at Noon. Even buying glow-in-the-dark stars to put on your ceiling in the shape of all the constellations only helps a little.

You figure that anyone unemployed or struggling at work is up staring at their ceiling in the middle of the night. Same goes with people unhappy with their marriage or primary relationships. People feeling slighted by fate or dealing with issues surrounding their upbringing are sure to be unable to get a full night’s sleep. Throw in those dealing with a short-term crisis and I think everyone in my neighborhood is up with me and we’re all sitting their staring at our ceilings.

What a great thought.

Last night it was all because of an itch. Typically you scratch it and be done with it but I found myself upset that it wouldn’t just go away. Why won’t an itch just itch itself out and then depart? Nope. An itch will sit there until you scratch it, oblivious to whatever other trials you have going on in your life. So I tried to wait it out. Thinking it would eventually subside or I could forget about it. After an hour I tired thinking of it as a pet. A pet that sat unmoving on my left buttock. Itching away. A pet that if I actually owned I would purchase a firearm and shoot. I ended up having to scratch it.

Stare at your ceiling long enough and eventually everyone thinks the same thought; if I accidentally killed someone would I have the intestinal fortitude to dismember them to get rid of the body? They couldn’t kiss their lips goodbye if you were chopping them off but they could wave goodbye to one arm. Not both of course, although you could do it for them. When you’re done they could even give you a pat on the back with a little assistance. I don’t know about you but I always think I’d say something like “one sock too many” as I cut off the first foot.

I always look at the human body as pretty easy to cut up. Just snip at all the joints; ankles and wrists and elbows. Child’s play. It’s like we’re made to take apart. All except the torso. Cleary too big to stay in one chunk. Even at 3 a.m. and weary from an hour of staring up at the ceiling I know that much. That’s where the intestinal fortitude comes in. Would I be able to saw through the ribcage and stomach and such?

I don’t want you to think that being awake at that time of night is all bad. On the positive, while I wrestle with life’s big questions I’m able to have some quality nose-picking time. Not the quick scratch but some serious knuckle-deep time.

I doubt many of my neighbors could do it. As I stare up at where the “Little Dipper” should be, the light from the day-glow effect having long worn itself out, and, finger buried in my nose, I feel a sense of pride knowing despite the difficulty of hacking my way through the small intestine I think I’d be able to do it. Somewhere these is a great analogy about the “Little Dipper” and the small intestine and the “Big Dipper” and the large intestine and intestinal fortitude in general but I can’t come up with it. Twinkle twinkle little Ahfa al Farkadain, how I wonder what the crypts of Lieberkun are.

I need more sleep.

 

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