NAVY RUM

I feel a bit like collapsing into the earth and just sinking out of the conscious world: falling and tumbling from significance - out of time, out of memory, out of action, and out of history altogether.

Or just ‘going to sleep’, as most people call it. Yes, that’ll do - instead of worrying about how to write this ridiculous key change, or figure out why I cycle through highs and lows so quickly. Instead of trying desperately to prove I’m not a nerd by using quantum physics, I should be fast asleep, washed over by silver dreams, and the gentle songs of the stars!

Yet here we are.

I’ve gone back to my winter tradition of spicing up my nightly hot chocolate with a dash of navy rum - and it is just a dash before you say anything; I’m no hardy pirate, and there need be no question of what to do with me ‘erly in the mornin’ 

It does however, leave me feeling ‘strangely warmed’ from the inside out. This concoction is like central heating! I hardly feel the cold at all nowadays when I run round the garden singing sea shanties at the moon.

Anyway, the key change ought to be simple. It’s for a Christmas thing where the band come hurtling out of an audio track and straight into a carol. But the keys won’t match and the first key is so resolutely defined by the track, I’ve got no time to modulate it up to the second key without it sounding forced and awkward. We can’t run the carol in the first key because it will be completely unsingable. It’s a puzzler.

The thing is, I know there’s a solution, I just can’t find it! And now it’s too late to be bashing out Christmas music on the piano. Yet I’m still awake and thinking about it, silently in my head.

And the nerdiness? It’s got to me a bit, if truth be told. I can’t explain why without breaking the THINK test, but I probably shouldn’t complain too much. After all, I clearly did think it appropriate to use quantum physics as a justifiable reason why that ‘nerd’ label doesn’t apply to me. I don’t have a wave-function to stand on there, do I?

Yup, I need to collapse, to sink deep under the cool waters of a good night’s sleep. Either that or chuck me in the brig until the navy rum wears off.