dream hangover

Working six days a week makes me plenty tired but put fresh clean sheets on the bed after a long week and I will sleep as though dead, a luxury as pleasant as it is rare for me these days. So the day starts with the snooze button and another episode of Chinese Fire Drill dreaming: ready, set, dream. Corn, something about corn. Then an arm on the beach, clearly coming from the finger in the chili business. Survey says I am 85% existentialist and perhaps 15% hedonist. Hedonism is for the weak. Two days ago I was Joe Strummer, yesterday I was Captain Beefheart. Wake the fuck up already. How can you kiss someone for the first time when that crackhead you know is scratching at the window of the car? Wake up, you're going to be late for work. Write the chords before you forget them: G minor, A diminished, B flat augmented, E flat, D. Write out that blog entry, you'll forget it when you wake up. Sing-a-ling, I saw it comin. Sing along, sing-a-ling, sing a song, take wing. Key change: A minor, appregiate. Wake up already for Chrissakes. I am left feeling unsettled but can't quite remember why. A dream hangover.