I woke up this morning to an unusual feeling. My head felt completely empty.

As I turned over the lip of my bed, I noticed a strange glob of grey goop on the floor.

My pillow was wet. There was what appeared to be a snail trail from my pillow to the floor.

I lifted my hand to my head, and felt a lightness, a hollowness that had not been there.

I immediately worried how I was going to be able to go to work without my brain intact. But then I remembered that I didn’t frequently use my brain at work and would probably be okay.

It then occurred to me that I was still somehow able to have these thoughts and worries, all the while my brain sat soaking into my beautiful pastel carpet.

I arose, careful not to step in the goop, for fear of permanent damage to most valuable thing I posses.

Walking with no brain was something to get used to, as it seemed aimless and lacking any balance.

I went into the kitchen to find a spatula and a zip-lock bag. I discovered I was unfortunately out of zip lock bags – as I remembered I had stopped buying them in an effort to rid my life of plastic and do my part to save the environment. But now I really needed one.

I got the spatula and found some tin foil.

I walked back over to my carpet, where my brain sat looking sad and defeated.

“Why did you try to escape?” I asked my brain.

There was no response.

“Am I not exciting enough for you?” I asked.

A bubble in the goop rose from somewhere deep in my brain to the surface and popped.

I took that as a yes. I sat for awhile with my brain – unaware that I was getting increasingly late for work.

Hours went by as I sat staring at my brain.

“I see what you mean” I told my brain.

I finally scooped up my brain and put it in a large piece of tin foil.

“I’ll have to sort this out after work” I told my brain.

I got up off the floor, put my brain in my purse, grabbed my keys and left for work.