This will not be a post of great insight. This will not be a post of great humor. This will not be a post of great anything. Like Scrooge in the above sentence, I find myself awake and trying to gather my thoughts together. It's one of those mornings where sleep hangs on like a cheap wine. At the moment, I could easily put my head down and go back to sleep, even though I've showered, dressed, and already completed several tasks. I can feel the sleep sitting behind my eyes, pushing on them. I'm having a hard time shaking this sleep hangover off.
I wasn't up any later than I usually am. I didn't do anything especially taxing last night. Yet, I'm having this out-of-body experience at the keyboard. I sit staring at the screen for a full minute, caught mid-sentence, unsure what I was going to say. I'm into my third paragraph, and all I'm focusing on...See, it just happened again. I'm not sure how I was going to complete that thought. I'm about read to throw in the towel, to use a bad sports metaphor.
Before I do throw the towel into the proverbial ring, I need to welcome the newest official follower of Saint Marty. Welcome, Mrs. Katie. I hope you find your time in the...OK, just had another brain hiccup. I think what I was going to say is that I hope you find your time in the middle of my neuroses entertaining/amusing/not too annoying.
That's all I got this morning, folks. Like Scrooge, I just woke up in the middle of a prodigiously tough snore.
Saint Marty just...lost his train of thought again...He will...Oh, screw it...
|I know how he feels|