I woke to the flash of lightning, then lay there waiting on the thunder.

The alarm clock read just 5:06, but I couldn’t go back to sleep; there was too much on my mind.

I thought about work (as — it seems — always). I thought about Chris and my show tonight. I needed to send a reminder email, lest the place be empty. I needed to pack the camera, cables, and tuner. I needed to write the set list, and record an MP3 of “Giving Up The Ghost” for Tony.

I thought about the wedding. Invitations go out this morning. But there are still first dances to be picked, all-star jams to be rehearsed, and after-parties to be planned.

I thought about the miles to be logged, the tape to be shot, the albums to be recorded, the books to be written …

I have been home from Chicago just over twenty-four hours. Still, I am already overwhelmed.

As I lay there thinking, I counted the seconds between the lightning and thunder, relishing its approach.

I’m sitting at my desk now watching the sky through the rain-streak window. The storm has passed, leaving the sound of car alarms and puddle-choked traffic in its wake. The alarm just chimed. Deep inside I’m tired of running. I don’t mind that the rain’s still coming down.

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