Most every morning it takes me at least 2-3 shakes of a lamb’s tail to identify THE ALARM what kicked me from ZZZ satori.

Open fist smacks down again and again and again until what made the noise stop?

Oh Strange Numbers Beeping Box what do you want from me!?! Get up from what? The notion of time then occurs. Yes, right, but which one? Seven. I have to be somewhere at 7. Where? Work. Why? What? Okay. How long then until I must not sleep? Ultimately impossible mathematical contortions arise, abide, & cease. And what are habitually the final calculations? 10! More! Minutes!

(That I stayed up late to write this will hopefully amuse me in the morning’s groggy delirium)

[Nota bene: It didn’t]
bc – 12/04/06