so last night i went to the bar and watched some bands, and got drunk. then i came home and realized i was hungry, so i put a certain visitor to bed on the couch and cooked myself the only palatable microwaveable frozen food i could find- some stouffer's scalloped potatoes (don't forget that i was drunk). dinner thus prepared, i carried the tray to my room to eat in private. a couple minutes later disaster struck and the tray containing the potatoes slipped off the surface of my desk-cum-dining room table and dropped to the floor. i rushed to the kitchen to get paper towel and came back to my room-
and this is where it gets weird.
i went to the site of the fallen potatoes and--- there was nothing there! i looked all over. i looked on the desk, under coats, in my laundry basket, in my guitar case, in the microwave, in the fridge, the bed; you name it. i got really frustrated and i actually almost started crying several times because of the sheer ridiculous insanity-suggesting nature of the whole experience. finally i just gave up and figured that sooner or later i'll smell the potatoes and find them that way. melissa suggested that perhaps the potatoes were consumed by the ghost of the deer head i found several months ago. i'm going to go with that possibility. miles and i figured that maybe i blacked out and cleaned up the mess but do not remember it, but there was no carpet dampness or trashcan evidence. i think i'm going crazy
ergo, i have officially completed my descent into madness, and let it be known that the catalyst was potatoes.