The Subconscious, and the strange things that lurk therein

At the moment, I am reading Freud's The Joke and Its Relation to the Unconscious. Funnily enough (just HILARIOUSLY, in fact), this post has almost nothing to do with Freud, save the fact that a memory just trickled down through the recesses of my brain and oozed into my conscious.

So, being in a high state of procrastination, I thought I'd blog about it.

Here's the memory (hope it comes across as at least mildly amusing; when I first experienced it I think it kept me chuckling for several days [this is perhaps an indication of hos sad I really am...]):

Our cleaning lady's daughter had come over, with her mother, to our house.
While her mother was cleaning, she sat, staring determinedly at a printed A4 piece of paper.
I went about my business, not really noticing what she was reading.
She remained sitting. Staring. Almost frowning at the paper.
Hours passed.
She still had not moved.
The frown remained.
Same sheet of paper - one sided A4 sheet.
She continued in this manner for almost of three hours.
Motionless.
Silent.
Finally, I glanced at the title of the paper she was reading.
It read: "Excellent Jokes"


Not laughing? Hey, just because I study humour, doesn't mean I'm funny! :S