- April 11th, 2012
Woke up, 2am, gotta pee. Find that the bathroom light's burnt out. Must deal with it, but first:...
Absent-mindedly scratching my chest, scratch a spot where I had an ingrown hair. Weird thought #1: "Huh, I remember this body having that scab there." ...wait, what?
Unthreading the light bulb. Weird thought #2: suddenly, the process seemed so quaint, so... archaic, like this was a long-ago abandoned way of doing things. Threaded fasteners on replaceable single-point bulbs instead of permanent light sources! And the fit of these threads - sloppy! How did people ever put up with this?
I padded over to the small service closet where I thought bulbs were kept. The history-lesson thoughts continued. Cardboard box of bulbs, all loaded from the sides! Marvelling at how old everything was, as if it hadn't been normal practice for decades.
Thread in new bulb. Remember to not look at the bulb while threading it in, in case the power was left on. Got something from that, too, but the past-shock sense was starting to fade.
Last bit before it faded emirely, I started to get nolstalgic about my bedroom.
WTF? Does this mean that I'm going to live for another 50-60 years?