Sometimes when the automatic faucet at work takes an extra moment to turn on, I worry. For that split-second, I wonder if I’ve become insubstantial.
But then, as I’m washing my hands, I’m a little sad. If I was insubstantial, I wouldn’t have to…well…do anything. That sounds really nice these days.
Though I suppose that depends on whether I’m invisible too. If I was visible, I’d probably be able to be useful and productive in some way. (After people stop freaking out and waving their hands through me. I bet that’d get annoying real fast.) If they know I’m there, they’ll probably want me to contribute.
I could still proofread. I’d just need someone to hang out with me and jot down the errors I find.
If I had a voice, I could still podcast. I’d just need someone to set up the mic for me and press Record. Oooh! And I wouldn’t have to worry about bumping my head on the microphone anymore! (That happens more than you might think.)
I’d need to do prep for the podcasts, but with help, I should be able to do that too. Again, someone to press play on Netflix or turn pages in a book. No more videogames, though. I’d have to rely on YouTube playthroughs.
Though now I’m wondering about furniture. Can I still lie on the couch or in bed? Probably not. Which would make sitting next to someone or in front of a mic pretty tough.
Wait. The floor still holds me up for some reason?
Ok. Inconsistent internal logic finally derailed this train of thought. That’s probably just as well. My break is over.
I wrote this at work last week and forgot to post it. Then over the weekend I was in a public restroom, and an automatic sink wouldn’t work for me at all. After my typical “Oh shit, I’m insubstantial!” thought, I switched to a different one, and it worked.
When I was drying my hands, the original sink turned on.
So now I’m pretty sure I’m a time-traveler.