Well, I’ve just run out of water .
Actually, it was just the water in my bottle. I could very easily go and refill it, but that would require the act of getting up out of my seat and that’s not something I feel quite inclined to do at the moment as it would mean that I would have to expend energy to get off my ass and walk for about twenty seconds (or less), then flip a lever whilst my bottle sits under a tap, wait for it to fill up, then take it back to my desk, place it on my desk, then try and re-position my seating so that I am comfortable once more.
That’s not something that I can be bothered dealing with as it would cause far too much stress and pressure and it could quite possibly throw the rest of my entire day right out the window with the bath water (sans the baby) and then I’d also have to refill my nonexistent bathtub with water which would require yet another trip.
Sure, I could probably quit being lazy and do it as it’s not as though I am physically unable to. However, I would much rather bask in my laziness (or remain at my desk to keep working as I’m doing stuff that I quite enjoy at the moment [not that I don’t enjoy the rest of what my job entails] as I have a flow going) as shattering that basking would be a terrible act of defiance against myself for some odd reason that I cannot explain easily within the confines of a few words (or pages). I would require some sort of large, multi-paged book that would span eons of reading, leading to an answer that would provide a nice wrap-up to all the dangerous, multi-threaded plotting and reasoning that went on in the previous pages. It would be so gloriously magnificent that it would change your life around for the better and you would suddenly find yourself becoming some sort of amazing-type person who is good at everything forever.
Such is the nature of the book that I would write.
It would take me a total of three weeks, but it would be so amazingly dense and complex that it would give Finnegans Wake a real run for its money… I wish.
On a serious note, all this typing is making me feel a little thirstier than I did before. Perhaps my hand shall be forced to act and my legs will be required to follow suit. The reduction of my being parched is significantly more important than the increasing of it and, personally, I quite enjoy drinking water as it seems to have some sort of liquid-like property when it is not frozen.
Well, that and I don’t fancy dying from dehydration. It’s not in vogue these days. In fact, I don’t think it has ever been in vogue.
Well, time for me to get up and get some water.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:55:23
So it seems that most of my faster writing is at somewhere that’s not at home.
I’m beginning to think that this may have to do with height difference between my desk and my seat.
Written at work.