On the Plane

It’s -52 degrees Celsius outside, dark, and there’s a discontinuity in the space-time continuum. Duran Duran’s goin’ crazy psychedelic even through closed eyelids, but all I hear is China’s best love songs on continuous loop. I’ve been awake for 21 hours, and in the last 7 I’ve consumed coffee, red wine, orange juice, and three bourbons and coke. I’m pretty sure I’ve found Limbo.

Thoughts of cheap Korean barbeque, my own apartment, and starting a new job have succumbed to fuzzy-brain syndrome; trying to imagine my soon to be realized future seems as feasible as pondering where your lap goes when you stand up. This is not going to be a very fruitful posting, but the alternative is just sitting here, thinking the fuzzy thoughts to myself.

It may be time to break out the SNES emulator, and Link to the Past. Hmm.