The World: Excuse me.
The World: 30 Days of Truth. Get on Day 6.
Me: Oh that.
The World: You’re procrastinating by writing the funny stuff when you’re supposed to be writing the serious stuff.
Me: Have you SEEN Day 6?
The World: Well NO, seeing that you haven’t written it yet, genius.
Me: It’s “Something you hope you never have to do” and that’s horrifying.
The World: Blorgh.
Me: I KNOW. So I procrastinate. Day 6 doesn’t exist.
The World: Okay, fine. How are things otherwise?
Me: Grand! Well, there’s the small factor of this cat sleeping on my chest, that’s annoying when one is trying to type.
The World: But what about the Doom? Surely you’re freaking out about the Doom.
Me: Not really, no.
The World: Do you have fever?
Me: I don’t think so. Zen. Zen outlook. What will be will be. What is meant to happen will happen. Yes yes, quite zen.
The World: You’re starting to scare us.
Me: *shrug* It just seems right. Everything will fall into its proper place. Dunno how or when or where, but it will. Until then, though…
The World: Here it comes.
Me: CONSTANT VIGILANCE.
The World: There’s the girl we know and cower from.
Me: The Doom could be ANYWHERE. Lurking. Lurking in the shadows. Like a panther.
The World: A…panther.
The World: Well we’ll look out for the…Doom Panther, but seriously, dude? Start writing something of substance. Day 6. Get on it.
Me: But it’s haaaaaaaaaaard!
The World: Tough tatas, honey.
Me: I don’t WANNA be all bummed out! What if this is the best I get and I die tomorrow? And the last thing I wrote was something doomy? That would be SUCH A DRAG, MAN.
The World: Oh my goddy, you’re not dying tomorrow.
The World: No one is dying. Not you, not anyone who’s flying today, no death.
Me: Two people. I’ve got two people flying today and one tomorrow. I should be paralyzed with the Doom.
The World: Think happy thoughts.
Me: Okay, I might be doing better, but don’t go all Sound of Music on me. I’m hopeful, not psychotic.
The World: Because this new med is the BOMB. And other good things too. So no doom.
Me: Then I simply cannot continue with 30 Days of Torture until I feel doomy again. I just don’t want to go there right now.
The World: Slacker.
Me: Perhaps! But a slacker in a downright chipper mood.
The World: You. Are. Terrifying.
Me: Seriously. I don’t know what to do with myself. This is the weirdest feeling I’ve ever had, and I’ve seen shadow spiders all over the walls before. This is weirder than that.
The World: Being in a good mood is weirder than SHADOW SPIDERS?
The World: You need your therapist. NOW.
Me: On the road in 20 minutes.
The World: Thank Jebuddah. Oh, and one more thing?
The World: This weekend? With the writing? No more cheating by doing Actual Conversations. Write something of substance. Seriously, you’re being a big cheating cheat doing all this dialogue. A real entry. This weekend. Promise.
The World: Glad we had this chat. Put on some pants, it’s time for your shrink.
Me: Pants. Therapist. Constant vigilance. Yes yes. Here we go.
The World: You are the strangest person ever to live.