Good Night, Good Morning

I'm awake, I'm awake. Ugh.

Been so since 3:30 am.

Man, I almost typed 4:30.

But no, at 3:30 I was awakened. Let's just leave it at that.

I came out to crash on the couch, but my mind's racing and my neck's really sore. I hope that melatonin and ibuprofen don't create some bad reaction when taken together. Guess I'm about to find out.

***

Wolfboy is still sick, dang it. This fever of his just will not give up. It knocks back easily with Advil, but 6-7 hours later it returns, and he coughs pretty badly. Poor kid. He's on antibiotics now.

***

I'm reading Flight, the new Sherman Alexie book (thank you again, Toland). I'm a couple chapters in, and I must say the man is in good form. In fact, my new tagline up there at the top is from it, though I must admit I don't fully grasp what it means.

It's so damn nice to get to do some pleasure reading.

***

I also always liked "the sky is a poisonous garden" from the Concrete Blonde song of the same name, though I never knew what that meant either.

Know that song of theirs, "Joey" by chance? When that song came out I pretty much was Joey.

***

What's a ganache? I think I ate one last night. It didn't struggle much.

***

Oh, and I'm awake because I was hungry. And no Pop Tarts in the house!

@#$%!!

***

Couple big trips coming up: Chicago with Hood next week, then a work trip to Cincinnati next month.

I've been to Cleveland, but I know next to nothing about Cincinnati. Maybe Jerry Narron and I can hang out.

***

I hear there is a "strong lead" in the George Smith case. The man lived and died on the beach. Poetic, tragic.

***

I am happy to report, however, that no one else in the house has managed to catch Wolfboy's bug.

***

Back to the couch. Good night, good morning.