it’s sunday. i went to sleep
this morning around 9am.
woke up around 3:30 in the
afternoon. now it’s seven
minutes to tomorrow, which
i need not say will be a mon
day when it arrives. if it
does arrive. and, okay, i’m
being a bit dramatic adding
what day of the week it is,
given that i do not work,
given that i am recuperat
ing from surgery, so have
no reason to feel guilty for
not being super productive
over the past few days, ex
cept i do have a reason,
given that my money is
dwindling, unemployment
payments ending in less
than a week, no job pros
pects, really, and have
been applying and inter
viewing incessantly since
my last gig, which ended
over half a year ago. so...
time. it hasn’t really been
‘on my side’ for quite a
while now, for quite some
time. oh, well. so i sit, or
mostly lie here, recovering
(i hope) from what may be
a typical ailment for a 55-
year-old, which basically
means a very scary, life-
altering event that gives
pause to a lowly human,
or should, i suppose, and
it does, only i don’t have
time for a pause. in fact,
i’ve been about the bus
iness of trying to get
back to living for quite
some, well, time, now,
and that’s what i really,
really want to do this mo
ment. to get back to it.
tick goes the clock in
my head, and all the
various other ticking
timepieces worldwide.
tock, they all go. tick,
tock, tick, tock goes my
heart, i can feel it, lying
here, having done nothing
all day. and now it’s mon
day. tick. tock. tick. tock.
and so i do my little trick
that sometimes works of
crawling as deep inside
of myself as i can crawl,
and i s-l-o-w i-t a-l-l,
bent, hunched as much
as my body can fold,
deep as i can go within.
and i watch the 8 go to
9. it’s 12:09am on a
monday. tick. tock.
tick. tock. hmph.
