I knew something was radically wrong the moment I woke up. I could feel nothing. More precisely, I could feel no pain. No headache, no pain in the back, no pricking in the shoulder (not even a hangover). Am I dead and is this hell? It’s a bit colder than I expected, dear Satan, would you mind turning the heat up? However, the cat is here too, so hell can’t be as bad as publicity suggests. (Also, I told you so, I tell my cat because I threatened that she wouldn’t go to cat heaven if she doesn’t stop chewing my flat deposit represented by the blinds.)
Maybe it’s not hell and maybe I turned zombie in the night. It wouldn’t be surprising, given that my building is situated next to a mortuary (and next to a hospital, which outsources to the mortuary). Then I recalled my yoga practice the previous day, which included the zombie pose (kneel down, stretch out the arms, let the hands hang down – undead face optional). Maybe I zened myself out during the practice and now I’m hallucinating. Or maybe I’m writing this in my sleep.