So, I had planned on doing a post about how NaNoWriMo was over and how I was so relived and how, nevertheless, I was kinda sad at the same time because NaNoWriMo is like a slow poison. And then I realised, hell, that’s what everybody else is doing, so I should probably not do that in order to be more individualistic, which may or not be a real word. I think it is…But then again, I thought frabjous was a real word, too, until it turned out that I was in an intense coma for thirteen years.
So, then, instead, I decided to do a post about how there was a large vampire bat in my hallway closet, but then I remembered that I was in a coma for that, too, and that Rex Banner cracked down on that bat like a Star Wars fan cracks down on the prequel trilogy.
And then I remembered I was in a coma for that, too, and that I was being attacked by the vampire bat as I typed this. And then I bled to death.
Which leads us to a predicament because, after all, if I’m dead or in a coma, then how am I even typing this? And then I remembered that you’re in a coma, too, and so that, because the bat wasn’t real, I can still type this and you can still read it. Thus the day was saved by post hoc ergo propter hoc.