All right let’s admit it. There is no way Carmen could consciously be writing these things. It’s too fantastical even for her. But they have to coming from somewhere. Maybe her subconscious is bleeding over the wireless network. Maybe Pedro is really a Russian mob hacker on a mission to brainwash the populace of Canada in a wild attempt to corner the petfood market. Maybe Craig is emailing them to a mole in my organization. But whatever it is it’s very, very interesting…

I woke up in mid air. Not too unusual until you consider it was 11 a.m. I found that kind of odd because usually when I wake up it’s more like 4:39 a.m. and if I wake up mid air it’s usually after a particularly vigorous night of drinking (or appreciating the finer things in life as I like to call it). Still, it looked to be mildly interesting and as my holidays so far had been three quarters full of the wrong things and leaking the right things from all the holes in my logic, it seemed I might as well finish waking up and pay attention.

Unfortunately I hadn’t been paying attention as I was mid thought on a stream-of-consciousness flow relating to my nieces’ infatuation with electronic, overpriced, self-immolating rebellion against my brother’s wife’s odd sense of teenage propriety, and I had no idea how I had gotten to where I was. And that’s why we need more moderation in changes to our geographical surroundings. Too much rerouting results in ridiculous amounts of regional roaming. Where was I? Oh, right, asking myself where I was.

Just where the hell was I?

So maybe I was away, which would explain why I was not there. That made sense to me. But where had I gone? Didn’t recognize the cutlery, the bath sheets were more like scarves and there was that particular picture of the skirt and legs. Aha! I was in the Turks and Caicos with a bunch of turkeys and caics… or was that cocks? Nevertheless, it was all obvious now. I was on holidays with meat. Meaty meatness. Juicy, chewy holiday meat served fresh from the meat server thing daily.

Now I just had to figure out where Pedro was before the omnivore turned carnie.

Landing in a pile of quilts, blankets, muppet skins and sheep remnants, I rolled over and decided that the day was upon me. Nap time.

***

Since we have determined I wasn’t at home, I wasn’t away. I wasn’t asleep and I was most definitely not awake in any reality sense then I guess I must be having fun. That was the the only sensible conclusion to the known facts. It also explained the crick in my neck, but that is another story which I could tell you but would make me seem non-linear and I know how you hate that. Fun. Huh. Odd.

Anyway. I ended my day at my loom, weaving a new sarape for Pedro to replace her old tattered one she wore out when she was living on the street… oh…that hasn’t happened… yet. And as 7:29 crawled around and the yawns filled the bathtub, I rolled over burbled goodnight dick and drifted off to sleeee…