Sometimes you get so tired, you feel like you could puke.
But then you think – Puke? Who pukes from being tired? Can you even do that? No. You can’t puke from being tired. That’s as silly as scare goats. You Google “puking from fatigue” and find nothing.
Then you take a look at the ham salad sandwich you slapped together in a sleepy fit, knowing that as a human being you should eat, but not even remotely wanting a ham salad sandwich. Who would? It looks back at you.
Yeah, puking sounds right.
You wonder how you got this tired. You wonder how the human system can even power itself on such little energy. It’s the middle of the day, you should be moving at warp eight, but you’re just sitting there staring into Nagilum’s big lizard face. You are so tired, you could puke. You swear it.
Maybe you just need some coffee. That should fix it, right? Coffee takes care of everything! It even prevents heart problems and diabetes! It has to wake you up! Wilford Brimley!
You put that ham salad sandwich in the bin where it belongs and brew some sweet brown nectar of focus. You guzzle. You couple it with writing something – mental stimulation is bound to have an effect.
You wonder what to type. The coffee isn’t immediately working, and merely resting your index fingers on the F and J keys hoping for literary excellence isn’t forcing it to happen. Time passes. Your coffee runs out. That ham salad sandwich in the trash can is sort of smelly. You probably shouldn’t have thrown it out in your office garbage can.
Right as you contemplate placing your face on the cold, uncomfortable glass top of your desk, you remember something important: You need so stop wondering what to type. Everything is a story. Everything can be a lesson, even if it doesn’t seem that exciting. Don’t worry about coming up with the cleverest of all clevers to win the Clever Award for Blogging Cleverness, just follow the golden rule of writing stuff – write stuff. You feel proud for not being a fool. You grin.
You sit up a little straighter and give a big middle finger to your fatigue. You call it a loser and make fun of its off-brand sweatpants and Papercraft collection. You scold its Dwight Schrute mousepad and its Bioshock 2 blacklight posters and tell it you’re better than it. You throw things at it and kick the back of its knees. You fart in its general direction.
Then you remember it’s you- and you quietly stop insulting yourself. And then you click Publish.
This post is aware it made a very random “Where Silence Has Lease” reference. This post chose the red pill. This post believes in you. This post has not been evaluated by the FDA.