rejectomorph | Reset Forty-Two, Day Seventeen (Reply)

That was Monday, wasn't it? The day that just ran over me? I wasn't paying much attention, as my brain has melted. Only a thin membrane prevents it from running out my ears. Should I bump my head the membrane is likely to break, and then it's all over but the mopping and the funeral. Who am I Kidding? I won't have a funeral. It's too hot. They'll just squirt my dissolving corpse into the gutter with a hose and let it run through the river to San Francisco Bay and then out into the Pacific. It's too bad I'll be dead, since I think I might like that trip. I mean I hate traveling, but I like floating in cool water, and the Pacific is very cool, even this time of year.

However, if I don't die I'm going to have to get some more sparkling water. I've been guzzling it so fast I'll run out in little more than a week, which is long before I'd intended to do more shopping. I'd hate to have to settle for plain water from the Brita pitcher. It's as dull as the mini-metropolis. As dull as my life. Not even ice cubes can liven it up enough to make it interesting. The still water, I mean, not my life. I've never tried putting ice in my life. Maybe I should. I have no idea how it could be done, but with this heat I'll soon be crazy enough to believe I can. That's good enough for me. Sweltering, batshit crazy me.

I want to go to the beach.