I called in sick to work on Saturday. And I really was. My throat had a decidedly gooey feel to it and everytime I got vertical, the room would cruelly spin fast in a counter-clockwise direction. I spent most of Saturday asleep in a sort of blanket and cushion nest I assembled on the floor about 3 metres away from the television, venturing out only momentarily in search of edible food. Sunday was similar, although it involved less gooey-ness but more generalised yawning.
But yesterday, Monday, when I had to get up and awake from my state of hibernation in order to continue living, as I was going out the door, I turned, looked back at my living room and was 50% shocked to see how I had been living for the last 48 hours and 50% sad to be leaving such an environment.
Between my nest and the television, I had devised a sort of paper/crockery mountain which had just sort of accumulated through my wanting to have everything within a arm’s reach away from me to avoid the vertical dizziness fear. In the three metres between the television and my hibernation bunker, were the following; 1 lap top, 1 scanner, 10 copies of my zine, 2 draft copies of my new zines, 1 box of blank CD’s, 1 box of tissues, roughly 2 years worth of open day information that I haven’t gotten around to putting in the recycling bin, 1 whiteboard, 2 glue sticks, 2 mugs 1 half full of cold coffee, 1 piece of chocolate that quickly found it’s way into my mouth hole, 1 pair of jeans, 2 cardigans, 1 hat, 3 socks, 1 copy of The Age (unread) and 1 copy of The Herald Sun (unread except for a large amount of staring time at the pictures of male divers wearing very little), 2 plates, 2 remote controls, 4 seasons of Seinfeld, 1 half empty pack of envelopes, a small amount of launch invitations, fluoro green, about 2 million pens of various colours and 1 book of Shakespeare’s Collected Works.
And I really couldn’t believe it. I’m sure some people wake up on a Monday morning with an octopus in a blue wig beside them on the couch and Boy George making them scarmbled eggs in the kitchen, but I was a little shocked to see the remains of my weekend. I didn’t even touch it. I just left the house, knowing that I would return to it later that day, but also knowing that when I did, a little bit of the weekend nest magic would be gone.
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