keep forgetting everything.
keep forgetting the order of everything.
when did they happen? who was there? in what order?
am i mixing some of my own stories with dreams?
am i dreaming now?
it's all happening in 7/4. everyone knows the dance steps but me.
it's all flying by me in slow-motion, wrapped up in the delirium of up-tempo jazz.
The metal press comes down to my left, pressurizing, locking and then releasing steam.
I grab my face in my hand and let it slide down. I sigh and pull the red lever to my right.
I haven't been sleeping too well lately. Too much on my plate. The divorce. The kids. The promotion. The nightmares.
What day was it? Wednesday? Christ, I could use a beer.