My Brain on Exhaustion
>> 15 July 2010
I have friends who put up with my random ramblings, believe it or not. Sue tends to tolerate my whining, in large part because I tolerate hers. Usually. Instant messenger conversations usually wind up being the most bizarre, but sometimes they truly embody the way I'm feeling.
Me: so's it September?
Sue: not yet
Sue: sorry
Me: dang
Sue: yeah
Me: August?
Sue: nope, not yet, either
Me: dang
Me: bed time?
Sue: could be... if you were in India
Me: hm
Me: I declare it nap time
Me: or I declare it India
Me: but I think the former is easier
Me: though Columbus sure tried the latter
Sue: and look where that got us
Me: where?
Sue: here
Sue: where it still isn't India
Sue: or September
Me: or bed time
Sue: exactly
Sue: so it's all Columbus' fault
Me: d*mn Columbus
Me: it's all his fault
That's not a picture of India. Or even America. It's Bosnia. It's just a pretty cave with pretty spring water. Don't ask me to make sense.
2 comments:
Is this poetry or a real conversation? Either way I love it. Thanks for sharing.
I'd love to claim this as poetry... Maybe I should start marketing all such conversations that way!
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