** 2:01 am: ** After spending

four and

forty hours in deep and dirty

contemplation of

n-dimensional topology, I became

thoroughly convinced that I could successfully turn my insides, out, within the

postitudinal bounds of

regular homotopy.

** 2:02 am: ** Unable to immediately

envision a simple

affine eversion, I was forced to result to a more

practical, or "

brute force"

methodology... By crossing my arms and pushing up into my

armpits, I thought, perhaps, I would be able to undergo the necessary

bodily transfigurations. Slowly I became aware that I was an impervious

manifold, pitifully incapable of

self-intersection, which

disturbed me

deeply.

** 2:44 am: ** Realizing that any

polynomial or

parametric expansion of my

figure would likely be of sufficiently

high degree to render my

visual intuition ineffectual, I decide to

compute my

degree from

experimental data and develop a rough

path model of the

transformations necessary, using my weighty library of

theorems and

corollaries in

differential geometry. Despite the

inelegance of this

approach, I continued to feel

confident that the final transformation will be

smooth.

** 2:59 am: ** Casting

marble to the

wind, I

reluctantly embarked on this venture into the rough

loci that is

coordinate geometry. I began by

plotting points on my

skin, using a

black magic marker. My lack of a

mirror inhibited exact spacing, but I intended to use a leveling

bell curve to

average and

normalize the

data, which I developed, while plotting, with my free hand. Although

the shrieking statistician inside my skin protested both

vocally and

violently, I continued to pursue my original

processes; if I proved to be at all

periodic, a good

Fourier Transform simplification would vastly increase my ease in

translating and

rotating in normal

3-space. Note: In afterthought, this would have been useless, seeing as I didn’t even have the

O(n log n) required to complete the

mixed-radix Cooley-Tukey FFT algorithm.

** 3:43 am: ** I began to run into

additional difficulties when I found the marks on my

extremities were smudging against the

carpet while I

spotted my

stomach; thinking this would be a

recurrent issue, I sought to

develop a

statistical model to

compensate for the smudging; however, I soon realized that I could just suspend myself bodily from the

ceiling fixture, and engage the

mathematicians’

prerogative,

dismissing the existent smudging as

unavoidable '

experimental error'.

Unfortunately, I also fell and fully pricked my hand on

a rusty doornail, thus

invalidating my original

assumption that I was a

surface of

Genus 1.

**To be continued:*** How I was forced to conclude that I was most definitely insoluble by a general case.*