Dooming Us All
The other night at almost 5 or 6 in the morning (so..."The other morning at..."?) I sat up abruptly and looked at my roommate's bed sheets (he was at his friend's house) crumpled up on his bed, and thought:
I need to disarm the bomb under his covers.
No...why would there be a bomb under his covers?
It doesn't matter. There's only 15 minutes left to disarm it.
It doesn't make sense. I would have done it already. If I just go to sleep no one will know I didn't do anything.
Or something like that. Needless to day, there was not a bomb, we are all still alive, the room did not explode, and I think I just had my first two-sided conversation with myself!
-CF
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