I am at work.
This statement is true in the physical sense. I AM at work. I can tell because when I focus long enough, I recognize that I’m in my office, at my desk.
My windowless, beige little office with its florescent overhead lighting that is designed to suck the life out of all who dare step under its glow.
It’s actually not that bad.
Anyway, since I ticked off all the tasks on my to-do list this morning, my brain has taken a leave of absence. Without my brain, my productivity takes a major nose dive. So in the mental sense, I am not at work.
So if I’m not at work, where the hell am I?
I don’t know.
While I ponder my existence, I’m going to grab a coffee. Maybe the caffeine will snap my synapses back to where they ought to be, and I’ll get back to being the productive worker bee that I claim to be.