Hearts and Funny Papers

Despite noble efforts I am usually awake throughout the night. This being factual, I am frequently provoked into falling asleep against my consent during the day. This afternoon, after having awakened from one of these attacks, I discovered very passively that I was rather dispassionate. To be sure, I opened my rib door to assess the curious feeling, and Ah-Ha! - my heart was missing. “This accounts for the feeling, I am certain,” I said to no one in particular. So I arose, procured myself a cup of coffee, and searched the house for my elusive heart. Finding my cat examining a lampshade I asked if he had seen it, to which he replied he had not and further added I should be more responsible in retaining any organs I may possess so as not to have frightfully bizarre and bloody things running around the house, which he said was most distressing. At last, I found my skittish necessity in the library reading the funny papers, and, pretending he didn’t notice me, continued to do so as I stepped in. I could tell he was in a very foul mood, so I sat in the chair opposite and considered possible ways to begin a conversation with a bitter heart who was trying to ignore me. I did not have to think long, for at this point the fellow impatiently spoke up. I shall not record every word he threw at me, nor the impolite phrases – I shall just say that he was very displeased with me. Apparently, and I cringe at the irony of typing this above my previous post, he was exceedingly dissatisfied, and “horrified” with my diet. He suggested I think over the concept of moderation, and consider more innocuous selections for nourishment – or else, he threatened, he would bleed excessively on my books, making them quite stained and considerably unsettling to read. I quickly apologized for my behaviour, and agreed to manage my diet more responsibly.