I'm Going Slightly Mad

My bedroom is shrouded in perpetual darkness. This is because, when the wooden, slat-like window covering is open, any gentleman who so desires can saunter into the building across from mine and watch me walking around my room in various states of undress. I could open and close the wooden portion of my window depending upon what's going on inside, but this is quite a production.

The result is that, even in the middle of the day, I have to have the lights on or else I am in the dark.

So, when I woke up at 12.20 the other day, it was not completely illogical that I should think that this time was indicating p.m. and not a.m., right?

That's what I keep telling myself, anyway.

I had been (still am) sick for a couple days, with a cough and general sleepiness. To combat this, I went to bed extra early Tuesday night.

Then I awoke, read the clock, and panicked. I thought that I had slept through all my classes, that I had somehow taken a nap and not realized the time. I even sent an apologetic email to the school where I teach art because I thought I'd missed class (which starts at 11.30).

Only ten minutes later, as I considered going to the library to salvage the rest of the day, did I realize that I was wearing pajamas. Slowly, it dawned on my that my computer clock said "a.m." I walked into the living room.

It was dark.

This little episode was quite disorienting, to say the least, but I am feeling better (although various substances in my lungs are still insisting upon fleeing their natural habitat). And I would feel perfect if I could convince the store on the corner to sell me one of their awesome shirts.

The shopping street near me is lined with stores, and they are all having sales. This store in particular advertises their sale with shirts on which are printed: "50% Fabulous." Here, #2 does her best mannequin impression.

When I tried (twice now) to communicate with the store clerks that I want to buy one of the window display shirts, I have gotten nowhere. The shirts are not for sale, sure, but this is Egypt! Everything is negotiable - if you can speak the language, that is.

Hopefully I will solve the shirt procurement puzzle so as to report my fabulosity quotient on my chest, because I am certainly 50% fabulous. At least.

Judging by my episode, the remaining 50% is all crazy.

P.S. #2 has expressed annoyance that I always post pictures of her where she looks coo-coo. And yet she keeps posing with entertaining and bizarre expressions. The fault, therefore, is really with her.