Bedshaped

Something’s wrong with the sky. It’s blue when it should be black. It’s light when it should be dark. It’s empty when it should be full of stars.

Oh, it’s dawn.

Where am I? Flatbush and Fourth, ok. What time is it? 5:30. Oh Jesus. I need a cab. Walk towards the clock tower. That looks familiar. Don’t get mugged. Don’t get beaten up. Look strong. Walk tall. Wow! This is totally the Marathon route. I can’t believe it’s three months away. I’m completely screwed.

Oh well.

White light, white light… cab! Sweet. Smile, cabbies like that. makes ’em feel safe. My f’ing head is killing me. Is it the medication? Is it the booze? Am I not stretching enough? Oh man, it f’ing kills. Ok, don’t break the guitar getting in. Don’t slur your speech.

“Tenth Avenue and 56th Street please.”

Sweet Jesus, turn down the iPod. Mmmmm, Simon & Garfunkel. Love, love, love this song. I can’t believe I have to be at work in four hours. Jesus, what do I have to do today? Oh my gosh, he’s talking to me. I hope he doesn’t talk to me the whole way home. My head’s going to explode.

“Yeah, just played a show.”

“Well, I’m a singer/songwriter. I play with a rock band. But tonight I was doing the country cover band thing, one of my side projects.”

“The Smith Family.”

“Yeah, it’s fun.”

Jesus Christ, he’s going to talk to me the whole way home. We haven’t even crossed the bridge yet. Oh, we’re on it. Which bridge is this? I can’t see a thing. My eyes hurt straight back into my skull. There’s no way I’m running in the morning. Oh shit, it is morning. Yeah, no chance. My f’ing head is totally going to explode.