is that all there is?
if that’s all there is, my friends
then let’s keep dancing
let’s break out the booze and have a ball

What. What is this shit. If I thought waking up to a sappy cover of Bush’s “Glycerine” was bad, this is hell on earth. I cracked open a reluctant eye to glare at my alarm clock, daring the obnoxious red display to show me a reality I didn’t want to face. I had been having a steamy dream; the kind that made me horny anytime we passed a grocery store, and there was still the produce aisle to get through. I don’t want to wake up. I want to go back to the produce aisle.

Alarm clock. Right. My other eye joined the party, as my first hadn’t located the offending device. Nothing but darkness greeted me; darkness and Peggy Lee being all 1960’s emo up in my business. I couldn’t see the alarm clock, but didn’t think much of it – I wasn’t completely certain I had opened my eyes at all. Eyesight was a moot point anyway; all I needed was my trusty snooze button and I could get back to asking strangers if my melons looked ripe to them. My right arm shot out from the warm cocoon of the blankets, and I slammed my hand down on the alarm clock as Peggy sang about how much the circus sucked.

And then I fell out of bed.

There was no alarm clock, or night stand, or anything at all. The momentum of my snooze attempt had launched me out of bed and onto a cold concrete floor. Several thoughts went through my head all at once:

• what the fuck is this
• where is my alarm clock
• shut UP Peggy
• seriously, what the fuck is this
• .. concrete .. ?

Something wasn’t right. I needed to be far more awake than I was to figure it out, so I reached up and yanked my hair hard enough to make my eyes water. It’s not a classy move, but it worked – I was more alert now, and starting to get pissed. First step: find the damn alarm clock and make it stop telling me to keep dancing. Second: find a bathroom, and third: well, I hadn’t gotten that far yet. I have my priorities, and everything else can wait.

My eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness, so I reached out and flailed a little in the hopes of hitting something solid. My arms met nothing but slightly damp air, so I got bolder in my movements. I was a bent elbow away from a full-on Chicken Dance when I heard a new noise over Peggy: a squeaky hinge. I whirled around and saw a faint line of light on the far wall that looked like it could be a door, which might lead to a bathroom.

Should I:

Continue flailing about to look for a light switch (turn to page 17 leave a comment about flailing), or

Head towards the maybe door? (turn to page 82 maybe door! maybe door!)

—

I’m tired of doing NaBloPoMo, but still doubt my ability to string together a cohesive story for NaNoWriMo – so I’m trying something new. I’m going to try to write a Choose Your Own Adventure-style blog story in which the choices are crowdsourced. Leave a comment with your choice, and in the next entry I’ll continue the post based on the “page” chosen. This is completely on the fly, and I’ve got nothing in mind for the direction of this story .. I just want to see what’ll happen next, and at this point you know as much as I do.

Please play along, or I’ll be sad (and look kind of stupid)!