Not enough sleep. I never get enough sleep. I stretch and I creak, my bones are old and this floor is cold. I drank too much last night for the first time since… well, I guess since the night before last. I stumble to the shower because there’s no sense in wasting time on hangovers. My face is pale and I need to shave, I need to buy new blades, I need a drink, I need a hug.

The water stings, but in a good way. A fresh way. Wash the night off of me. Stretch in the scalding water and feel the muscles loosen. Think about going to yoga, or maybe to the bar. Remember that cutie with her smiles from last night. Laugh to myself about the moments that make up our lives. Think about the day, think about today and its endless possibilities, not worry too much about tomorrow. Accept the hangover as part of life, the price of admission, my old friend.

Think about making a big breakfast, or better yet, going over to that diner on Broadway, the one with that Greek grandmotherly type woman who acts tough, but then winks to let me in on the joke. Knowing that I’ll just have coffee instead, but intend to go see her soon. Think about the weekend and about friends.

Think about her. Think about her because I always do, but today I won’t linger on her for too long, I’m getting better. Wash my hair and my face, feel truly awake, truly alive. Turn the water from hot to lukewarm. Harden up for the day. Breathe. Turn the water from lukewarm to chilly. Control the breath. Turn the water from chilly to ice cold. Remember that time in the lake in the spring in northern Minnesota. Breathe and remember that time in the ocean in New England in February. Offer my face to the spray and smile through the cold. Not tired anymore, we can sleep when we get old, there’s too much to do today.


2 responses to “3000

  1. Somehow you just made a hangover seem like a peaceful, rejuvenating experience.


  2. Pingback: Cold Water Flats « The Anarchist Project

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