Sitting in the car after work — on the driveway.
The cricket noise less intense. I look to the right, long blades of grass call the mower. You know what I don’t think I have it in me today. Simple — electric mower. It is a real organizational feat to get the damned thing done sure but it is also Monday.
I am fkn beat — flat out. I ate a banana on the way home, had some Rockstar Recovery brand and a bottle of water.
I can feel it — Mondays are always the same. Back to work — the walking, climbing, conversations. At times it feels like I am an actor whose words come from some other place: sku, P.O. issue, hanger, u-boat, breakroom, the vocab goes on like I am a work-bot.
I inhale, exhale. I went to bed at 2 AM, well tried to fall asleep by then. It just was not happening. So, my Monday is a double layered fatigue.
I think — what will it be Mark 1. Eat Food Coma routine?
I look at my freshly cracked phone screen and feel my ennergy fading, my feet practically throbbing in these old boots.
I resist the urge to write about anything else. I could fall asleep right here in this car.
