A (very) Short Story

I finally went mad when I was 36. The event surprised me in many ways. For instance, it happened a lot later than I’d expected. I never thought I’d make it past my 20th birthday.

Another thing was the way it happened: simply overnight. I went to sleep as a very sane person. When I woke up, I clearly felt I was insane.

It wasn’t as scary as I’d always thought it would be. I’d always dreaded the day when I’d become lost in my own tangled web of diverse personalities and contrary urges. Yet, in the end, it wasn’t all that bad. Perhaps the change in perception made me fear it no longer, since I had simply become a part of it.

My first question was how to continue existence. Should this even be considered? Perhaps it didn’t even concern me anymorer. After all, I couldn’t possibly be held responsible for my actions any longer. Still, I pondered all morning about what to do with the rest of my life and, for starters, with the rest of my day. Simply go to work? Newly introduced to insanity. It sounded rather useless. Not to mention tedious. But what to do then? What does one do at a moment like this?

After a bit more pondering I got up. It was around 7 a.m., but, needless to say, this information couldn’t be trusted, since a clock is a round, 2-dimensional instrument and therefore one of the easiest images to get distorted in one’s mind’s eye.

I took a look in the mirror and saw someone vaguely familiar. It felt like on of those ackward moments at a cocktail party; meeting an acquaintance you couldn’t place if your life depended on it. Perhaps I was at a cocktail party, temporarily phasing out in the middle of a conversation about Swedish prawns and international fiscal accountability.

In any case, I bade the unplaceable acquaintance goodnight and went on about my business.

I decided I would go to work. The way to get there was the trickiest bit. Every one seemed to know about my newly acquired mental distortion. I took little notice of the worried stares and whispers on the metro and ended up spending a lovely and most enjoyable day at work. I chatted freely with all my colleagues, even the ones I didn’t know from Adam. I helped out whereever I could; settling problems and solving differences where I went, prancing and dancing from office to office, leaving a trail of contentment and colourful flowers in my wake.

When the clock struck quitting time I was sent on my way with cheers and clapping, receiving, handshakes, shoulder pats and newborn babies to bestow benevolent kisses upon.

On the way home, it crossed my mind I may not have gone to work at all. What with my altered perception and all, I might as well have gone to the local supermarket and pranced around between the isles and startled shoppers. Then I decided this was much too sane a thought to be worrying about in my newly obtained state of mind, so I dispensed of it and returned to my happy mood.

On coming home I shouted ‘Howdie Joe!’ to the unplaceable acquaintance. He was still there and I’d just decided this is how I always greet people I don’t know or aren’t important enought to remember. Since I’d lost my wits, this type of situation was bound to present itself more often, so I needed a suitable strategy to adress it.

I went to the mini-bar I don’t have and poured myself a double whiskey, straight up. From now on this is what I always do after a succesful day at work. I’m of the sound conviction that even the smallest of achievements should be celebrated and cherished. I beckoned my wildly attractive wife and had her join me on our cashmere couch, which we’d picked up on one of our many trips to India and she nestled up against me in her sexy transparent night gown; which she always wears when I come home in this great a mood.

I decided there and then I would stop writing down my achievements. After all, they would soon be known by all and, in the end, keeping a diary didn’t quite suit my recently gained mental status.

It befalls me to tell you then, dear reader, you’ll lose the pleasure of sharing in the wonderful experience of my daily adventures. But I can tell you one thing: it’ll be grand.