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Today I was being even more, more or less

Been on July 2, 2023.

Monday.   Today I was being everyone I could think of, except myself. I didn’t want to be myself anymore. (Who would?) And no one else wanted to be me either, so there was no one with whom to exchange places. But that wouldn’t stop me from not being myself anymore. I’ve been lots of things before; now I wanted to be everyone and everything else which I have never been. There are a surprisingly large number of humans and things (and human–things) in the world, so this endeavor would be quite the challenge! As the old saying goes, one eats an elephant one bite at a time, so I started at the beginning. Disaster struck at once, when it emerged that Aabbaa A.A. Aaronson was one of the laziest, most apathetic men in the world—so moments after becoming Aabbaa, I gave up on the whole plan and just collapsed into a disheveled heap in my Hopeless Slack-Ass® recliner.

Tuesday.   Today I was being P——— N——— Å———, the man no one dares to name. The squirrels have never dared to name me, even prior to today; now they were doubly hesitant to utter my whimsical, spingly-bongly appellation. The geese were mute. Even the trees were mum. Not even my dear old mum dared to name me—which caused quite the quandary back in 1974 when I wandered away and fell down an abandoned mineshaft. No one knew how to call out to me nor file a missing person report! So there I stayed, making my home with a clutch of Himalayan Varnishing Gnomes that lived inside a vein of magnetite. I finally reemerged in 1977 but I was never the same. All that isolation and magnetite made me a very clingy person—especially around iron and steel objects. But that was just a phase: I grew out of it after I tripped and fell into an industrial degausser in 1983.

Wednesday.   Today I was being the inimitable Roy G. Biv, the most colorful man alive eaten by a grue. Since ol’ Roy wasn’t around anymore to be himself for us, I surmised that someone had to be him in his stead: Specifically, I had to be him since no one else wanted to be. (Who would?) Alas, unable to master the art of doG-awful poetry like the real Mr. Biv, I decided to take up the violin instead (in my stead now, not his stead). Unable to acquire an actual violin before nightfall, I settled on what seemed to be a passable substitute: Playing a pangolin like a violin. The scaly creature didn’t appreciate this, though—and tried to claw my face off! But I had the last laugh: Night fell and now I was being a faceless man. The pangolin slunk off in confused frustration. I slunk off to bed.

Thursday.   Today I was being a half-man. Slow-moving musical instruments ceased to be a common theme this week when someone threw a high-speed violin at my head. Failing to cow me, they followed up with even higher-velocity chainsaws, which explained my suddenly homunculine nature. The violin was a day late (and a string short), so it helped not at all with my Wednesdaily machinations. The pangolin came back, too—fixing to gnaw me off at my knees this time. But it was thwarted again: The chainsaw had beaten the little beastie to it! Again it slunk off in aggravated frustration. Again I slunk off to bed.

Friday.   Today I was being a half-man and a half-woman. It wasn’t clear to anyone which half was which, but one thing was clear: Both halves made the whole neither. Was I both a man and a woman now? Or did the two halves—and which halves were they?—cancel out and make me as androgynous as that featureless white worm I used to be? One other thing was clear—none of this was clear at all. I slunk off in my own bewildered frustration now. Unfortunately the pangolin was hiding in my bed and gnawed me off at the knees at last.

Saturday.   Today I was being neither male nor female, but xemale. This hadn’t worked out for Bud Lite, but maybe it would work out for me. (It didn’t.)

Sunday.   Today I was being everyone I couldn’t think of, especially myself. Not being me, I couldn’t rightly post this blog entry to my wobsite. So, I didn’t. Hopefully Monday will return me to my me-like state, but who even knows now?