I can't get out of bed this morning. I woke up with plenty of time to get to work on time but I have somehow failed to actually get ready and leave the house. I'm not sure if I'm having an existential crisis or if it needs to be something more than finding nothing where meaning should be. I should be hurry and motion but instead I turn the radio up every time a plane flies low and loud overhead.
When I worked with Elliot I would have left the house this morning just to see if he was in the office, just to walk in the door and see his face across the room. But he is in rehab now. There is a new man in the office, he's no Elliot. Thank fuck for that but still here I sit on the bed spilling cigarette ash on the pillows and waiting for desire to plunge into the world to take hold of me. Maybe it never will, maybe I'll sit here until I die. Sure beats my old dying in the bottom of a wheely bin scenario.
When I worked with Elliot I would have left the house this morning just to see if he was in the office, just to walk in the door and see his face across the room. But he is in rehab now. There is a new man in the office, he's no Elliot. Thank fuck for that but still here I sit on the bed spilling cigarette ash on the pillows and waiting for desire to plunge into the world to take hold of me. Maybe it never will, maybe I'll sit here until I die. Sure beats my old dying in the bottom of a wheely bin scenario.
Comments
I hope you enjoy your next 'crash day' I know I sure enjoyed mine.