I'm sitting in the basement in my office-like corner. I'm looking at my plans fade to shapes and shades. My head is full of mayonnaise. I'm asleep with wide eyes, forgetting how to breathe.
I would drink right now, but I can't stand up. If I stand up now, I'll have nowhere to go.
There are no conclusions here. There is nothing to fix.
I might rather feel miserable; a solid place to put my hat. But at this time I'm vapor, and it clatters to the floor.