A little less than a happy high

At about 8:25 tonight, I was sitting at the wheel trying to throw underneath Afro-Brazilian beats framed by occasional vocalizations by Woo-Girl, my world suddenly went silent.

This wasn't the silence of Flow, where all else around you fades into non-importance. This was the silence of death, where there is no sound because something truly terrible has happened and any sound would just be superfluous. It just stopped.

I've been in a state ever since.

I'm having one of those moments when I wish I had a cell phone. Which, of course leads me into a whole slew of entirely unrelated gadget envy, most of which should be sidestepped in favor of my getting more use out of the toys I have already acquired. I have not given myself enough time to play with the camera, and I really need to get more comfortable with the idea of stealing the spirits taking pictures of people. I still need to find Quicken-compatable software for the palm I seem to have inherited. There's more, but you get the idea.

Still, a cell would be genuinely useful right now.

On the other hand, I've been bloody useless all day. I'm feeling better than I was, and than I was, but echoes of the silence and a touch of upset over other things that are taking place led to fitful sleep. This, in turn, led to a lack of motivation today. I can scarce afford to slouch, but I'll give myself this one break. I probably won't be decompressing over the weekend, so I'm planning on accepting my irresponsibility as a requirement for continued mental health. Or something. Stop laughing!

Last night, a vase I threw ended up looking exactly like a mostly-used roll of toilet paper. I share this for my amusement. Stop laughing!