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here we you go
May 24, 2005
when i was a kid, i heard about the mid-life crisis, heard about successful men, with beautiful wives and kids, going nuts, trying to recapture something they felt they had missed.
how silly, i thought.
this morning, i called in, not even feigning sickness, but just taking a day, a vacation, to get myself together.
i slept until 2:00. went home, watched the several weeks' of shows, left and ran errands, walked kammi's dogs, my eye on my watch, trying to calculate the fastest way back, instead taking the bataan death march, the dogs and i so tired, so worn, by the time we got back home.
went to see sarah sharp at momo's - more on her to come tomorrow. remembered the vow not to drink this week, ordered the lone star, and another, listened to her sing, heard the words, cried, a little, there on my lonely side of the bar. talked to her afterwards, handed her the anthony hamilton cd she had asked about sunday morning at halcyon, left hand, engagement ring, wedding band adorned, gracefully accepting the gift.
went to halcyon, andrea, leora, adam there, i sat, and drank, and wrote, the words faster than i could scribe, the tears faster than i could hold back, dropping on the paper.
i decided to stay for the cleaning, grabbed a rag and wiped down walls and baseboards, threw down shots with my friends, moved furniture, with frank, with leora, watching her work, deciding to be as strong as me.
after, going to eric's house for pabst blue ribbon and a game of catchword, finding the piano, sitting at it to find heart, finding it sadly out of tune, later, brain fighting to stay in the game.
to 7-11 with nancy, eric's roomie, grab the chocolate milk and fire hot cheetos, say goodbye to her on the corner, walk home down congress, feeling the newness and curious familiarity, but taking forever to get home, stumbling with my little bag, the wino quaffing quik, dropping his cheetos on the sidewalk, in the middle of south congress, picking them up, swaying, eating them with the joyous practicality and oh-so practical joy of a child.
stumbling home, past the ambulance idling, up the stairs, to here.
where am i? where am i going to? which world wants me? which world do i want? which will have me?
tonight, i sleep in my bed, with my cats, my world in sleep, but nothing more, my stomach a mess, tomorrow as a lawyer looming.
come sleep, take me, please, take me.
Posted by Rob at May 24, 2005 04:59 AM