Lately, I’ve been whistling habitually. I don’t know why. Something fried out in my central nervous system. Too much coffee maybe. I whistle very softly, so usually only I can hear it. I often whistle the same tune over and over until I want to run full speed into a cinderblock wall, with my tongue between my teeth. Stop the damn whistling once and for all.

This afternoon I was having coffee with my Dad, and I told him I couldn’t get Finiculi Funicula out of my head. Something about the first few notes are similar to a way that I whistle for my doggie; I hit those notes, and the tune just won’t stop. He suggested replacing this with It’s a Small World.

I believe this is the last straw. I’ve officially gone to the zoo. In between choruses of It’s a Small World, my brain is just going bubitabubitabuhbuhbuh.

I guess if Reality wants me, Reality has my cell number.