Man, I wanted to Forrest Gump it this morning. As I was approaching my exit, the music was jamming, the sun was shining (but not too much – mine eyes are sensitive to too-bright sunlight), the AC was cranking, I was already heading down 45S. Wanted to keep trucking to the coast and breathe in some saltwater-tinged air. Maybe grab a po’boy. Ahh, but there are bills to pay and metaphorical miles to go. So I’m at work instead of getting a sunburn, writing to you over my sandwich while taking a break from my Excel spreadsheet. Living the dream, people.
I’m still not sleeping. I think allergies are part of the reason. It feels as if my right eyeball is slowly being pushed out of my skull. Not an aggressive shoving, just a slow, creating the Grand Canyon sort of pressure. Occasionally a lone tear winds its way down my right cheek. Very melodramatic. I don’t know if it’s the pressure on my brain or what (do sinus issues push on one’s brain?) but when I dream lately, that shit be crazy.
It’s been a who’s who of my past popping up in my head each night. And it’s not like we’re all sitting around the fire sipping brandy and getting caught up The Big Chill style. More like, some random person I used to know but was never that close to is with me on a boat and we’re painting a bedroom while Isaac Hayes sings quietly in the corner and plays jacks. Then Doug Henning rides in on a giraffe and we all sit down to eat gummy worm pizza. Only weirder than that.
This is what I get for not drinking during the week.