A coworker's find in the deep library bookstacks:

Tucked away on the empty end of a shelf, an empty PBR tallboy can.

Response of a library co-worker, to my new joke.

My new joke I was telling all the (undergraduate) students at my library job like a month ago, was, I'd set them up by saying that I was going to tell them a life lesson, and then I'd be like, "Remember, always shit on the clock."

Like the third student I told that to was a sophomore, and he was like, "Of course!".

Then, he was like, "That's 101."

A dream of a library.

The other week, I dreamnt -

I'm in a library, and there's multiple floors, and each has like a twelve by twelve square cut off and railed off, and for some reason that's how I cross between floors.

On one floor, I can't see the books around me, and there's this very odd looking light blue staircase, and some (men) beckon me up, but I tell one to keep going first, since I'm afraid that if we're both on it at the same time, that it'll collapse.

Next, I'm crawling up like a poorly positioned rope ladder and with difficulty trying to throw my leg over a floor, and I can see the bookstacks around me, and a well-dressed man in a suit walks by, next to his wife in a tasteful paisley burka.

Then, I get up onto that floor, and as I go into a room, a woman passes by in my peripheral vision.

Next thing I know, the police are asking me about her, since it turns out she disappeared, and they're gathering all clues to the crime.

I want to tell them more in order to help them, but I hardly even noticed her presence, she was just there and gone, and I really have nothing to say.

. . .

A dream of the beach:

The other week, I dreamnt -

I'm standing before a white wall in a foyer, and there's red tiles and an open door, and just beyond there's a line of sand and then the blue water of the ocean, and I can feel the heat just billowing and billowing in onto me.

And, I think, I should be going swimming, but for some reason, I'm not, and I kind of feel bad, but I also feel lazy.

. . .

A dream that I don't quite remember.

The other week, I dreamnt -

I'm standing and doing something, and I jerk back on my heels -

And at that point my heels, which are sticking off my bed, tense up all of a sudden, and wake me up.

I had moved like I was moving in the dream, very severely, only now, I can't quite remember what I was doing in the dream, only that it carried over into real life and woke me up.

Got a bug.

The other week I met my one art school friend who wears women's clothes, and like always I ended up clubbing till 5am.

Walking home from the subway, I ended up vomiting a bit by the sides of two trees just before my house, though I wasn't all that drunk.

The next day I woke up around 2pm, laid in bed some, got up and threw up around 4pm, then slept from like then until like 9pm.

Then, I got up, had some watermelon and water, read, and went to bed from like midnight till 7am.

Then next day, I got ready to go to work, but when I bent over, I felt woozy, so I called in sick and went to sleep for another three hours, and I wasn't quite myself for the rest of the day.

I almost think that I had some sort of bug.

There's no earthly reason I should have slept that much, or been as vomiting as much as I was; it's not like I was all that hammered.

I texted my one art school friend who wears women's clothes, and he wonders if we got muscle relaxant or roofied or something, he said he was off for like a day-and-a-half too, and alternately sleepy and tired and depressive.

He said it also could have been poor tap lines at one of the bars we went to.

That's my hunch, with what it was.

An aspect of my blog:

I tend to write posts around a month ahead of time, so if I get busy and miss a bit, there's still all the once-a-day content coming.

That's why I start so many posts with "the other week" or "the other month," so that the time reflected within the post is somewhat accurate, by the time that they're published and people start reading them.

Sometimes I've thought, then, that if I die suddenly, my blog will go on for a bit longer, like probably for around a month, and then it will suddenly stop, though by that time I'll have been dead for around a month by then.

It's like dead people on Facebook, where they pop up on a birthday notice, but they're actually gone.

I've heard stories about people posting "Happy birthday!" on the walls of distant acquaintances or friends who they hadn't been in touch with, when those people were long gone, so it turned out that they were wishing happy birthday to dead people without knowing it.

Isn't technology wonderful?

:O

(This post is just a morbid reflection; nothing actually going on here with me.)