Had an observation to report and then it up and left me. With nothing to observe, nothing to report, I feel like nothing. I'm an empty shell, a branch without a pith. I am pitiful and pitiless, unbending, unending, unfulfilled and pithless. My fingers are frozen and aching. There is little point to this and that's the point, to make no sense, but to fill up the space reserved for this entry. Revealing and revelling and reeling from not feeling. I have no sensation and make no sensation.
I had a report all written. Hit save and it was erased, irretrievable, irreplaceable, irresponsible.
I had half a stick of lip balm and an empty shell. I married the two and split the remains between them. Now I have one to carry with me and one to leave on my desk. When my lips get dry I have options. I can replenish at home or on the road. I have a back up plan. I have redundancy. I have the comfort of knowing I am covered. My lips are covered. My lips are sealed. My eyes are peeled.