:Merrily Doing A Thing:
(To myself) "Wait, no. Logic."
:Stops Doing The Thing: -- RecklessPrudence
Brain fog gets to everyone. Even those who do not, strictly speaking, have brains as we know them.
Rael caught himself in early morning lo-cal fog, holding a bread knife over a large cantaloupe. What he had been about to do was unclear but cutting had to be involved.
"This is not right," he told himself. He put the knife down, put the cantaloupe into the Skin-a-Majig, and extracted his overnight oats whilst the fruit did its circular ballet.
Then he ingested it whole.
Now he remembered why he wanted the bread knife! Cake!
Meanwhile, in the home quarters of Ambassador Shayde...
Woke up... sort of.
Fell out of bed. Yes.
Dragged a comb across her long, smoke white locks. Fuck that. Coffee.
She shambled towards her kitchen like one newly risen from the grave and took a generous slurp of theobromine solution.
It was stone cold.
"Heat the fookain coffee, then drink it," she chanted.
 The more things change, the more things stay the same. Late night television kitchen gadgets are just one example of concepts that won't die. Even when we want them to.
 A hungry Faiize in a hurry is a terrifying thing to behold.