This is Not a Picture of a Cat (Dead or Alive)*

I don’t know what it is but I can’t spell when I’m asleep. Or, not can’t spell. I get words mixed up. Mostly homophones like ‘retch’ and ‘wretch’ and ‘through’ and ‘threw’. The sort of distinction that’s obvious, but that my unconscious mind is apparently incapable of making. It also happens if I’m composing and my brain gets too far ahead of my fingers. And then, of course, I start messing up the ‘ed’s and ‘ing’s because apparently that part of my mind is also not particularly good at tenses.

It’s really weird looking back at stuff I write that way because generally I do spelling and grammar on an instinctual level. I don’t think about it. So watching myself screw it up is surreal.

Possibly I’m finding this more than usually fascinating right now. I didn’t really sleep at all last night. There was this thing with a pounding headache that was super fun and… whatever. But at least I can amuse myself by reading what I wrote when the headache wasn’t letting me sleep.

If I’m writing about someone who is hungover and they’re retching and I write that they’re wretched is that commentary on the character, about my headache or just exhaustion taking my language skills back through time? I think it’s the last one. And at least if I’m making goofy mistakes I’m entertaining myself… It is making me a little nervous about posting this, though. Perhaps I should just post a picture of a cat. People like cats, right? I’ve heard that…

 

* You’re probably happy about the dead part. Or are you? Would you like to see pictures of dead cats? Are you a little morbid? Tell me more.