Rude Awakening

The past boiling in the kettle of dreams.  Your smiling face at the kitchen table, rational and proper, while he’s the whistle, steaming, screaming…

Paul Simon’s “Paranoid Blues” out the Jeep windows:  my hopeful exclamation that summer has arrived.  Rolling through your old haunts; you “just got out in the nick of time,” while I  still haunt.  If you ever come through in reality, you’d find it a time capsule:  auto mechanics, Mennonite buggies, produce shops, and a short trip to Yellow Creek Park.  At thirty five miles per hour, car headlights distort the road ahead, glistening off the rain-soaked highway.  Chill night air getting to me, I roll the windows up, crack one a bit, and end up having to roll one down again in order to spit out the mucus I wrangled up by singing.

Can’t seem to shake this.  Upper respiratory infection.   A few days working partial shifts.  Reaction to the antibiotic doesn't help; keeps me running with the threat of dehydration.  Yogurt helps.  Buy the Greek kind, though it’s more expensive.  Though wage is meager… But, I’m happier with decent food around.  Anyway, I don’t want to see you again, but I hope you’ve been more successful than I have.  Everyone deserves such happiness.

Don’t know why I’m dreaming about you.  When I woke up, coughing, it really threw my day off.  Probably took it out on others around me; tend to get cranky about things like that, or when arthritic back acts up.  Weather fluctuations piss me off:  one day hot as h, the next cold and rainy, the latter usually falling on days off.

Yeah, I’m a prisoner.  Mostly my fault for settling, though I could probably find excuses and reasons beyond my control.  Probably too late to free myself, anyway.  Just hope the day won’t be so bad, and the night, well,  hope that dreams are either peaceful or forgotten…

Aircraft fly over constantly.  Helicopters fly low.  Saw one, once, that almost nicked the corner of the upstairs bedroom.  Watch YouTube videos about Stingray boxes, ignore the ones about chemtrails, and wonder if we’re all due for some rude awakening.