I lay on the floor of my den balled up like a fetus in the womb and cried, "Please dear God! No more house cleaning!" What followed would be a cigarette and then the thought of doing more terrible chores. There was a lot more thinking about cleaning than actual cleaning getting done. I am not very domestic.
My 4 AM in the morning guest to-be was George. I went for a morning cup of coffee at Fat's. George said, "Why didn't you answer your door?"
"Dude! It was freakin' four in the morning," I told him. "You 'bout gave me and Maggie a nervous condition."
"You always used to get up early anyway," George said in his defense.
He wanted to borrow money. I had two dollars to my name. One sure thing about George is then he never fails to pay you back. I just didn't have any to give him.
Mom came by this afternoon. She brings three 20oz Coca-Colas with her when she visits. I swear those are the best damn cokes I have ever drank. I can just feel all that caffeine coursing through my veins. Don't say, "I told you so!" if I have a anxiety attack drinking this stuff. It is my version of living dangerously.