There are a few reasons why I choose to drink only non-alcoholic beverages and avoid any mind-altering substances. Mostly personal preference, partly my beliefs, and, most importantly, a desire to maintain an assassin-like awareness of my surroundings at all times.
But early yesterday morning, a very sober me found the real reason I avoid alcohol and other substances that have even the slightest effect on the mind. How, you ask?
I assaulted my television.
I have a small television in my bedroom. It has about a 19-inch screen, and I've had it for about 11 years now. (I think it was the result of a Black Friday sale when I was in 8th grade.) It sits atop a chest of drawers directly in front of the end of my bed. Each night, I fall asleep with my TV on, and I did the same last night. Usually, I don't have a problem. Sometimes, reruns of Family Matters will wake me up, but mostly I sleep through the night with no problems.
For some reason, yesterday morning, I woke up with a dire need to change the channel. I mean, whatever was on the screen seriously had to go, at that moment, no question.
I'm not sure what the entire sequence of events was, but somehow, the remote disappeared from my notice and my half-asleep brain decided that it was entirely logical that the television had to be unplugged, and it had to be done right that minute.
My brain decided to go on an acid trip all by its lovely little self, without my permission or help, apparently.
In this brave new world, the cord for my TV had miraculously grown longer and was now plugged in somewhere behind my bed, the side of which is pushed against the wall. I began frantically looking for the origin of the cord, starting with the TV itself. I looked behind it, and felt all around it, grabbed parts of it, but none of the wires felt at all right. I even turned on the overhead light.
That's when it got interesting.
As I leaned over the wooden chest of drawers, I unknowingly exhaled into a tiny flower pot that still had some dry peat mix at the bottom. This particular peat mix was composed of dirt, bark and, one might suppose, evil.
Without warning (mostly because I didn't know it was there) a bunch of the peat leaped up and took up residence in the nearest mucous membrane, that being my left eye.
This is what I looked like.
Somehow, despite all the acid trippery that my brain had decided was terribly appropriate, I had the presence of mind, after attempting to use my eyelashes to extract the offending organic material from my eyeball (and surrounding tissue), to do a good old fashioned eye wash, and to do it using sterile contact solution instead of tap water.
While I was accidentally remembering all those lab safety tips I never used before, my brain clicked on and said, as I removed the last tiny spawn of evil from my eye, "what the heck was I just doing?"
I did go back to bed. By that time it was just before 5:30 a.m. I changed the channel and went back to sleep.
Moral of the story for me is that I really should keep my mind and body clear, since I apparently attack electronics if compromised at all.
'Cause who knows, next time I might roundhouse kick the flat screen downstairs.