mindscript one

. i'm sorry! it's only mail!
. [insert requisite polite laughter response]

and then, BAM!, i smack right into the wall in front of me that i didn't see because i was too busy with responding in an upbeat and i'm-so-down-with-it manner.

. [insert involuntary lookit-that-dumbass! laughter response]

hey. no sweat. i can deal with yet another slight mishap. totally. all is as it should be per my usual lack of phsyical and mental coordination.

let's turn the corner shall we? let's do that and talk to meself accordingly in the meanwhile with the usual squeaks of my cheap plastic cop shoes as a rhythmic backdrop. hey hey, my personal rap session, how sweet is that.

walking, sorta rapping, walking, wannabe rapping, and before you know it, hey, i'm back where i started from. walk right past the mah jong conversation straight to my desk, and hell no on missing a chance to admire le profile in the reflective safe door (that butt is getting so big it ain't funny) and lean the head to the side to feel that swish of smooth, recently cut hair. how unfortunate that the scent of shampoo has dismappeared. pooh.

you are getting sleepy ... sleepier ... and ... sleepier .... snoooooooze ......................