The cat howled all night. 

All. Fucking. Night. 

Then I got up to find the person who owed me something, never sent it. So my sleepy self did the work. 

And then he sent the work I needed. When I was done. 

I can’t get into what an existential mess it has turned into. But it is three hours I won’t get back, all before 8 a.m.

At least I was awake for pothead upstairs to go through all his dresser drawers right above my bed. I swear this asshole can’t remember where he hides his stash from day to day. 

Of course my favorite time of day is when he goes on and off his balcony a thousand times, opening and closing the door with gusto each time. 

I’m tired. And tired. And did I mention tired? 

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