So, in the shower this morning, I discovered a grapefruit-sized bruise on my leg. It's a pretty shade of purple. It doesn't hurt, and that's fine. But what's worrying me is that I have NO idea how I got it. I mean, you'd think I'd remember that kind of trauma. Nope. Not a clue. I woke up this morning and there it was, pretty as you please, the same color as Crown Royal bags. Appeared, as far as I know, out of nowhere.
This worries me. I mean, what if my roommates are exacting their Emily-left-dirty-dishes-in-the-sink revenge and I sleep right through it? What else am I sleeping though? Am I sleep walking? Or am I just losing my ability to remember painful events that (usually) result from my clumsiness? What if I'm repressing an embarrassing biff? What else am I repressing? What if all my memories are in fact, made up, and I have no past? Maybe I'm crazy and the life I "live" is the result of experimental drugs given to me by evil doctors with weird mirrors on their foreheads? What if this isn't real? What if I'M not real?
At least, that's what I thought while I shampooed my hair.
I love Crown Royal bags! Maybe you got hit with one? That would explain a lot.
ReplyDeleteYou should get that soap and then retag this as absynthemindedness.
ReplyDelete