Thursday, February 17, 2011
Not getting enough sleep, perhaps.
Or, possibly 'twas a bad batch of shrooms in my morning scrambled-eggs-in-a-cup.
Hard to say.
All I know is I spent the entire night dreaming -- rather vividly, I might add -- about a rogue Guinea pig scurrying about my house.
Cute little fella (at least I assumed he was a fella). But irritating.
I'd go to catch him and he'd dart under the couch or behind a chair.
Finally, spying him sleepily sunning himself on a living room windowsill, I was able to grab him by the scruff of his furry light brown neck.
Fidgety little whiner.
I tried to pet him, to assure him I was his friend.
He would have none of it. Wrangled his way out of my arms, plopped to the floor, and made a dash toward the bedroom.
I remember feeling angry as I followed him, thinking to myself that he was very much wearing out his welcome.
Had him cornered.
Then he picked up a tiny guitar and broke into a riff.
Man, that cavy could jam!
Didn't recognize it, though. Sort of a Smoke On The Water/Layla/In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida combo is my best guess.
Pretty darn amazing for a lab rat sans opposable thumbs.
How could I stay mad?
Then I woke up.
Oh, what to make of my delusional guinea pig guitar hero...
A rodent playing his way into my heart?
Wouldn't be the first time...
But, hey! No time to analyze. Day job's a callin'.