Thar She Goes!

Am I unbalanced? I am. Yesterday, I sat up in bed, sat on the edge for about ten minutes to pretend I was awake, and got out of bed when I convinced myself I no longer slept. I was standing as even the oldest Baguettes stand. My feet were down on the carpet, and my head was up. In fact, the top of my head was parallel to the ceiling. The whole of me in my entirety was facing South. And then, I know not why, the whole of me in my entirety rolled backwards. The backs of my heels were down on the carpet, and the tips of my toes were parallel to the ceiling. The rest of me reclined, and my shoulders and head were inside the storage box I was using. I was unpacking my summer wardrobe and about to pack my winter wardrobe. The Old Baguette rejoiced that she wasn't stabbed by any of the shards of plastic that were created when the Old Baguette hit the wool. The Old Baguette felt like Esther Williams or a star of the Olympics. The real Olympics, not the Special Olympics. That backward dive must have been very dramatic, almost as dramatic as the black and blue mark that now decorates the Old Baguette's arm. Almost, but not quite. That black and blue mark is really something. Should I name it?


Getting up was a challenge, but after half an hour the Old Baguette was again standing with feet on the carpet and head up. Because her legs felt like cooked spaghetti, she quickly sat down on her bed. She staggered about all day on cooked spaghetti legs. The Old Baguette really is old and getting older, and apparently her sense of balance is off. Perhaps off visiting friends somewhere.