It is 5:49 a.m. I am alternately rubbing Stormy’s ear with one hand and trying to type with the other.
I’m not typing in the normal fashion. Why? Because my keyboard is hanging vertically from the top of my iMac, covering part of the screen, the part that tells me what time it is — and if I’m online. (I’m not. More about that later.)
Why am I typing in this odd fashion?
Good question: Ask Stormy. She’s sitting in the spot that my keyboard normally calls home.
I’m supposed to be sleeping — but thanks to Mercedes, the other needy animal in the family, I’m awake. She wanted to go outside for her early morning yada-yada.
It’s OK that I’m up so early this Saturday morn. I must leave the house in an hour or so to go to church. (The last Saturday of the month is the Men’s Breakfast. It’s free — and generally good — even though men do the cooking.)
So I’m up. Writing … not for me, dear reader, but for you, thinking you might enjoy the gibberish that ensues when sleepy eyes and a foggy mind attempt to communicate … without a net.
And when I say “without a net,” I mean the Internet.
Last night my daughter Christi called from Alabama — as I was re-booting the whatch-a-ma-call-it. I had just unplugged that little round chrome-black thingy on its backside when the phone rang. That’s when I accidentally dropped the thingy. It fell between the wall and the desk — where it remains.
It is now 6:03 a.m. The alarm will ring in a few minutes to get me up — sad thought, that.
I don’t usually try this “Stream of Unconscious” stuff . . . too ethereal. So, if you don’t like it, let me know, and I’ll never try again.
Of course, that assumes I can fish up the thingy and get back on the Net so you can read this grand experiment.
“Whoop-buzz! Whoop-buzz! Whoop-buzz! Whoop-buzz!”
What’s that horrid sound?
Oh, yeah. It’s the alarm on my iPhone. (Don’t worry. I hit “Snooze.”)
Stormy is long since gone. She’s sleeping in her little canvas platform that hangs from the window.
Mercedes just barked, letting me know she wants to come back in the house — just as I realize I am jibber-jabbered out.
It is 6:13 a.m.
The End
UPDATE: Great breakfast, including Biscuits & Gravy. Hmmm. When I got home, I grabbed my handy-dandy arm-extension, the one with the squeezy handle on one end and the dainty pair of grippy suction cups on the other. Rescued the thingy on the first go-around, and eventually hooked back into the Inter-Web. It’s been an abundantly productive morning. Think I’ll reward myself by taking a nap. (You should, too.)
