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by Ray of Light 07/20/2004, 2:27am PDT |
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So I wake up this morning1 and bound from my bed. I walk briskly to the bathroom, opening its door without breaking stride. I've performed this move a thousand times and, if it were worth bragging about, I'd say I've perfected it.
hey the door's closed still
Realizing I'm about to walk into a door and maybe piss myself, I stop too suddenly and raise my arm for balance.
something not right
I headbutt the door. Involuntarily. Thanks to computer experience, my troubleshooting instincts take over in the face of this unknown. I'll need to stare at my arm.
where arm?!
Did someone steal my arm? No, there it is, dangling aft of my ass on account of my excellent posture (head up, shoulders back). It SHOULD be in front of me, where I ordered it sent a moment ago. But at least I still have it.
at least it's not the left
Troubleshooting theory #2: maybe the joints are seized. I disprove that by grabbing and shaking it, with the good arm, in a macabre hokey-pokey. An arm is heavier than you might guess, and awkward to grab hold of when limp.
Ray, stay the course. Can it feel?
It cannot.
isolate the fault
Shoulder OK, bicep numb, forearm and hand are a loss.
gradual is good I think. Must piss.
I'm pissing now, and waggling my torso to find the limits of this new disability. If nothing else, maybe I can wear a spiked glove and use it as a mace. Piss goes everywhere and I realize my feet can still feel.
damn this sucks
Without warning, feeling floods into my arm and all is back to normal.
what a crazy dream!
I'd like to think so, but piss-soaked feet will not be denied. Is this what I have to look forward to in my advancing age? My fucking limbs taking me-time? That's not right.
I eye the woman in my bed and wonder if she's to blame. Maybe. She likes to eat very slowly, and initiate conversation after I've finished eating, oblivious to interest accruing on the borrowed time she's supposed to use for eating. That's passive-aggressive, and what's more passively aggressive than crippling someone in their sleep?
This requires further investigation and a cool head. The enemy may be among me. I mustn't let on.
1. Yesterday morning; this story is late for technical reasons. Also it was afternoon.
[ ob. hosting comment: nice work, everyone, and I do mean everyone. Peter Drucker tells a story about his aunt or great-aunt or something, a pioneering pediatrician. Someone calls to ask why the baby won't eat. "Is he still eliminating?" "Oh yes, every day." "Don't worry: he'll eat soon enough." The moral? If you're eliminating, you'll eat. It's when you stop that problems develop. ]
Ray! |
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