I drifted in and out of consciousness in the first few minutes of the day because I decided to stay in bed a bit later than usual. During that time, The Voice spoke to me three different times, and I can hear the newcomers now asking themselves, 'Who the hell is The Voice?'
As regular readers know, The Voice isn't the afternoon television show where celebrities spin around in big red chairs—though honestly, that would make my mornings considerably more entertaining. The Voice is what I've chosen to name the phenomenon of voices that occasionally speak to me when I'm in that half-conscious state that occurs in the first moment of waking. It isn't some mystical Twilight Zone experience; it's a natural state of limbo, like waiting to connect to the WiFi of your own life.
It really doesn't matter what the voice says, although it's fun for me to remember, and so I write down what I hear and sometimes mention it in The Circular Journey, because that's what this blog is about—absurd things that occur in a mood-disordered brain that I can laugh about. Think of it as my personal comedy writer, although that would be me, wouldn't it?
The first time I woke this morning, the Voice said, 'Life is on the moon.' See what I mean when I call the messages absurd? It kept me in bed a few more minutes, pondering the cosmic implications of lunar living.
I drifted back to sleep, of course, and when I surfaced the second time, I heard, 'Tracy is Tracy,' which I'm sure is undeniably accurate although I don't know anyone named Tracy. Somewhere in the world, Tracy probably appreciates this validation of her essential Tracy-ness.
The whole event repeated, and on the third awakening, I heard, 'It's a beautiful morning!' Well, no, now I think about it, that wasn't The Voice—that was me. I always greet the morning that way if the sun is shining outside my window. Apparently, in addition to comedy writing, I've become my own motivational speaker.
And so, getting out of bed and opening the curtains, I said it one more time. "It's a beautiful morning!" but I added a lot more topspin this time.
I glanced at my phone again to see if I was going to be late for my rendezvous with Island Irv at Cafe Luna. The time was exactly 7:00 AM, and the screen on my phone read, 'Good Morning.' I know! I took it to be an omen for an excellent day because I can, and surprise! It was an excellent day. Sometimes the universe and my smartphone are perfectly aligned.
The day turned out better than I expected. I enjoyed every moment of it, and I thought, 'I should do this again tomorrow. Who knows? I may wake up feeling fine, with nothing special on my mind.'
When tomorrow finally gets here, I'll let you know how it goes. We might just be onto something good—or if not, we may at least make decent blog material out of it.
As regular readers know, The Voice isn't the afternoon television show where celebrities spin around in big red chairs—though honestly, that would make my mornings considerably more entertaining. The Voice is what I've chosen to name the phenomenon of voices that occasionally speak to me when I'm in that half-conscious state that occurs in the first moment of waking. It isn't some mystical Twilight Zone experience; it's a natural state of limbo, like waiting to connect to the WiFi of your own life.
It really doesn't matter what the voice says, although it's fun for me to remember, and so I write down what I hear and sometimes mention it in The Circular Journey, because that's what this blog is about—absurd things that occur in a mood-disordered brain that I can laugh about. Think of it as my personal comedy writer, although that would be me, wouldn't it?
The first time I woke this morning, the Voice said, 'Life is on the moon.' See what I mean when I call the messages absurd? It kept me in bed a few more minutes, pondering the cosmic implications of lunar living.
I drifted back to sleep, of course, and when I surfaced the second time, I heard, 'Tracy is Tracy,' which I'm sure is undeniably accurate although I don't know anyone named Tracy. Somewhere in the world, Tracy probably appreciates this validation of her essential Tracy-ness.
The whole event repeated, and on the third awakening, I heard, 'It's a beautiful morning!' Well, no, now I think about it, that wasn't The Voice—that was me. I always greet the morning that way if the sun is shining outside my window. Apparently, in addition to comedy writing, I've become my own motivational speaker.
And so, getting out of bed and opening the curtains, I said it one more time. "It's a beautiful morning!" but I added a lot more topspin this time.
I glanced at my phone again to see if I was going to be late for my rendezvous with Island Irv at Cafe Luna. The time was exactly 7:00 AM, and the screen on my phone read, 'Good Morning.' I know! I took it to be an omen for an excellent day because I can, and surprise! It was an excellent day. Sometimes the universe and my smartphone are perfectly aligned.
The day turned out better than I expected. I enjoyed every moment of it, and I thought, 'I should do this again tomorrow. Who knows? I may wake up feeling fine, with nothing special on my mind.'
When tomorrow finally gets here, I'll let you know how it goes. We might just be onto something good—or if not, we may at least make decent blog material out of it.
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