Friday, 08 April 2005 | Sticky note

Out of laziness, I'd been using a sticky note as a bookmark, because that was the closest thing to me when I needed to mark my place. It's purple, and for some reason, it resembles the shape of a house. The glue on the back of it runs right through the middle, so when you try to adhere it to something, the ends curl up on both sides and it falls to the floor. As a sticky note, it gets an F; as a bookmark, a C.

I finished the book I was reading while lying in bed last night. Once it had served its purpose, rather than putting the sticky note back in the book, I got up to throw it away. (Well, full disclosure: earlier that day I'd hidden some old gum in it during an "emergency," so it really needed to be thrown out.) When I walked into the kitchen, I realized the gas on the stove was turned on, and had been since I cooked dinner, four hours earlier. Which means, that had I not gotten out of bed to dispose of my gum-stuffed bookmark, I would've slept the entire night with gas snaking throughout my apartment like a curious ghost. I don't really know what the consequences would've been (the gas was only on 'low'), but I considered the possibility that I might've never woken up. In any case, it couldn't have been terribly healthy.

After a moment of relief, I lied awake in bed and imagined what today would've been like, had I died in my sleep. I don't mean in a morbid way, or even a sad way. I was just thinking—practically—how would the day go? When would my coworkers shift from thinking I was late to realizing something was wrong? (11:00? 12?) Is my apartment clean enough, so as to not be embarrassing? (Yes, I think so.) The deadbolt was locked, which means someone would have to break the door to get in. (That'd be a shame.) I tried to think of every detail that would make the day different, if I weren't present for it. Sometime during that process, I fell asleep.