I Do What The Superintelligent Parakeet Says

What I  Saw When I Opened My Eyes

I haven't been sure whether to continue with Before Nine or not -- principally because (sadly) writing isn't my full-time gig -- though, who knows; that may change over time -- and recently, I've had to pay more attention to the sit up and beg tricks Witless Labor™ I perform for money every day at the Happy Factory than I have before. 

And, I'm a voracious reader; I appreciate good writing, evocative writing. Most of my adult life's labor has involved written communication one way or another. So, coming to the blank CSS file in the same way that Hemingway faced the white bull that is paper with no words on it is not something I take lightly, no matter how throwaway blog posts can sometimes be.

And with multiple calls on my time at the Happy Factory, the allure of the blank CSS frame had, over time, become... well, work.  It was a drag, a requirement, and not a delight.

I didn't know what to do, so I just stopped, letting things simmer for a while. And then, it happened.

This morning, I was preparing to wake up when I felt a presence in the room. Opening my eyes slightly, I was confronted by the visage of the Superintelligent Parakeet who reads this blog, perched on the side table beside the bed, regarding me.

I could go on dragging this out -- but the bottom line is, he told me not to stop. We're talking about a parakeet with the equivalent of a human's 110 IQ. You may not think that's a big deal for a person, but the idea of a parakeet being smart enough to get into your home without being heard and watching you sleep should be enough to scare the living daylights out of you. 

And take my word for it -- you don't ever want to piss off a bird that smart. Ever.

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