a day for all night long

during the night before last (Monday night, I guess), I didn't sleep. all day Monday, I didn't sleep. Tuesday afternoon I slept on into the evening, about 3 hours.

Home from work Monday afternoon, I shared some music. Co-worker and pianist Wendy came over to steal all of it. I'd be angry, but I invited her to do it. She took one look at the cabinet in the bathroom and the disarray in the kitchen and the sloughing bookshelves here in this room and went straight for the computer. We plugged in and she was off.

"Take it all."

"I'm taking everything I don't already have."

"That makes sense. Maybe you should take some stuff you already have, too."

"But I have it already."

(Dubiously)
"Can you be absolutely sure about that?"

"Look, buddy, if I have it already then I already have it. See?"

"Do you want me to unplug this thing right now? I could turn this all around in a second, and then where would you be?"

"I'd be in your position..?"

(Exasperation)
"Right, and who wants that? I don't want to turn that around for you, and I certainly don't want that for me. What if it didn't work out? I only have so much personal space, and if people are switching things around into it without taking the common courtesy of removing me first or I forget to take me out when switching things around, it can get crowded."

"I'm taking all your music now, shut up."

"It's all good. Take it all."

(Lips Pursed, Ignoring, Furiously Mousing Around)

By the time Wendy left someone else--let's call 'em Marge--Marge had helped herself over my fine threshold and into my heart. She kept me awake and honest throughout the night. She smelled like human when we were close.

When she made her leave at some completely inappropriate hour I helped myself to a bit o' the internet and settled in for a long two more hours before I had to catch the bus to work. Joe Camel rang the time out occasionally (monotonous, but time flies when you're having fun) and I kept close tabs on everything he had to say.

I went to work looking like I got laid. How do I know this, chap like me? The boxcutters asked me if I was feeling lucky when I got in. I said pretty lucky, but no, not getting any luckier than usual. Then I had to give real reasons for the anglofro. Which was good fun, and dishonest.

I slept through my bus stop on the way home, and had to ride a ways before I was able to settle into bed, snuggle up with heavy lids, and proceed to NOT SLEEP A WINK FOR TOO FUCKING LONG.

then, as I pondered creative ways to die, I lost my train of thought and fell asleep.

Monday, I guess you could say--and I guess is all else I'm gonna say on it--was a day for all night long.

Currently Listening:
Veneer
By Jose Gonzalez