A Brief Moment of Perfection

I got very little sleep last night. Mylo decided my sleeping was unnecessary and proceeded to wander around the apartment, banging his stupid plastic cone against any surface he could find. He seemed to be searching for loud, rattling ones. My Canadian girlfriend didn't stir. At sometime around 3.30am she rolled over long enough to tell me, "I think he needs to go to the bathroom", which left me with two viable options - sulk or get up. I did both.

After observing that a rat had gnawed through our garbage bags and, in my coma-like state, allowing Mylo to piss all over my new Stan Smiths, I went back to bed and snatched a few hours rest. I hesitate to call it sleep.

I ghosted through my classes this morning - "Teacher, teacher! Panda eyes!" "Sit down, nobhead" - and am now tapping this blog out in that vaguely-stoned way you get after having nowhere near enough sleep. It reminds of me of when I used to write essays at Uni, pulling an all-nighter as I'd left it till the last minute. I'd work until dawn, chain-smoking and drinking tea, then somehow get to Uni and hand it in. Only difference is, I wasn't vaguely-stoned then.

I'm in a fairly shitty mood if you can't tell. We might have to give up Mylo after a visit from our landlady over the weekend. My plan to avoid this is to pretend that we didn't understand what she was saying and play the dumb cracker. Although, since she crossed her arms into an 'X' and said, loudly, "Dog! No!" I'm not sure how that's going to fly.

But life is about the little pleasures, right? Like, I've just been given a Dunkin' Donuts Americano for example. Completely out of the blue. It made me smile inside, and probably gave me another hour or so of consciousness. Excellent. And we're having fajitas for dinner tonight. Again, this is a good thing.

But sometimes, the stars align and create something so beautiful, so awe-inspiringly perfect that it makes my belly fizz. A sometime Atheist, it takes moments like these for me to give even the slightest consideration to the existence of God/Allah/Buddha and the rest of those guys. Today, I logged on to the BBC website, clicked onto what appeared to be an innocuous link, and experienced one of these truly religious moments. Only a supernatural force, beyond our human comprehension, could have engineered a situation whereby these simple words could be scrambled into the following, breath-taking sentence.
An Australian publisher has had to pulp and reprint a cook-book after one recipe listed "salt and freshly ground black people" instead of black pepper.

Love, Smithy x

1 comment:

Postman said...

Ah, the true meaning of salt 'n' pepper...

This made me grin a mile wide, buddy. Thanks for the pick-me-up you siphoned at me through a poor, exhausted cranium.

Good writing, too. The "vaguely-stoned feeling of no sleep" is readily identifiable. And the "panda-eyes/nobhead" exchange almost had me on the floor. Nice one.