She's Come Unplugged
Sometimes, when I'm really in a mental funk, I'll get a title stuck in my head--it will swirl around and around in my mind, popping up in response to any number of random stimuli encountered during my daily routines.
Once, for an entire week, I kept saying to myself "A Day No Pigs Would Die". As I spilled my coffee all over my new cream jacket, I said to myself, "A Day No Pigs Would Die". As I almost got killed by a frazzled mother using her mini van as a missile, I thought, "A Day No Pigs Would Die." No change for the bus...of course "A Day No Pigs Would Die".
As rapidly as the title gets stuck in my head, it disappears into silence. Minutes, days, or weeks will go by until another one takes up residence, but I always know that one will eventually find its way up there.
This morning, one of these squatter titles has built a little nest in my brain...only this time it is a little smeared.
Drip, drip--water dribbles down from the ice pack onto the floor below. The thermostat in my office is, unfortunately, located directly above the electrical outlet, the only electrical outlet.
I stare at the miniature pool of water building up on my laptop plug.
Blink. Blink. I just stare at it. Drip...Drip.
Blink. Blink. It's as if my blinks have joined the drips' band, playing together in rhythm.
They (the Man) can not regulate the temperature in this building so our offices are frigid, usually unbearable. I find myself layered in clothing, often with a coat on in the middle of the day. This morning, I just couldn't face the cold, so I taped ice packs onto the thermostat in an attempt to kick the AC off and the heat on. As I stare at the water, at the electrocution waiting to happen, I think, "She's Come Unplugged".
I wish I could take action and do the sane thing, I really do. I'm just so tired...so exhausted. I just don't want to be cold one more minute longer--the cold is killing me. At what point does the need to feel warm overcome the fear of being electrocuted, setting your office on fire, and losing your laptop and data forever?
When she's come unplugged, that's when.
Sometimes, I walk around the house unplugging things. For some reason, I feel like my appliances and electronic devices need to rest, they need to be free of my dictatorship. By unplugging them, I feel like they can truly sigh and fall asleep. As silly as it sounds, it makes me feel better to see them quiet, to know that they aren't generating their "running" heat. Maybe it's because I wish someone would unplug me from time to time. Maybe it's some sort of transferred exhaustion, a longed for rescue on my part.
She's come unplugged.
Damn, it's really stuck up there.