Forget about Covid19 and all those other crappy diseases. I’ve got Updownitis.
I knew I had it when I went to find my phone. It was in my bedroom. I knew it was in my bedroom. I was a trillion per cent sure it was in my bedroom.
I went into my bedroom. My phone wasn’t there. My phone was upstairs.
I went upstairs. I knew my phone was upstairs because it wasn’t in my bedroom. I looked for my phone upstairs. It wasn’t there. It had to be there because it wasn’t in my bedroom.
I looked on the sofa. I looked on the bench. I looked under the cushions. I looked on top of the TV. I went into the upstairs bathroom. It wasn’t there either. It wasn’t upstairs.
I went downstairs. I went back into my bedroom. I looked in the drawer next to my bed.
I never put my phone in the drawer next to my bed. I was looking there because I was experiencing updownitis.
Self diagnosed but frighteningly real.
Another lousy thing about having updown-itis is that when you try to write it down, your spellcheck tries to turn it into three words. Like this:
Up down it is
Up down it is is nothing like genuine Updownitis. Up down it is doesn’t make any sense. If a thing is, it can’t be up down. It has to be one or the other.
That’s why Updownitis does make sense! It is a truly horrible condition. Your whole life turns upside down when you don’t know whether a thing is upstairs or downstairs or neither, or either, or both. You just keep going upstairs and downstairs trying to find the bloody thing. You might go up and down twice, which is four trips altogether, enough to make you angry and sad and disoriented or any combination of those, not to mention exhausted. So many symptoms.
They tell you to call the Updownitis hotline. Yeah. So where’s my bloody phone?
2 comment(s)
Nana Wiramaja
Awesomely funny, loved it
Graeme Parsons
to Nana Wiramaja
Laughter the best medicine, right?