day 150_time freezes at IKEA
anitacanita
You know you’ve had days like this one. Bleary-eyed with exhaustion, still as a statue not because you’re concentrating but because although technically you do possess the amount of energy it would take to lift one arm off the other or flex one calf muscle, that store of usable power is now spread thinly out, shared between all of the trillions of cells in your body (your cells are nothing if not generous with each other) and in order to marshal it you would have to gather up all of the fortitude of Pheidippides stumbling 25 miles into his run and picking himself up again, just to will your brain into sending the command to move; and you are a tough cookie but you are not that tough.
The revolutions of the earth slow, and everyone around you blurs into essential lines, marked only by their motion. They are hummingbirds; you are a stone. They are cheetahs; you are a glacier. An extremely tired glacier. You contemplate going to sleep until the successful invention of teleportation, right there on the boxes containing your new bookcases and glass coffee table.
It is day 150, and time is freezing at IKEA.
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