I sit in the kitchen. Jeff Buckley in the back round accompanying my many thoughts.
A younger brother comes in with the mail, and I happen upon reception cards that were sent back for my sister's wedding. So soon, that event is coming. . .and soon, would I like this pounding headache to go away.
But piles of folded laundry wait for me to put them away. My Grandpa and Grandma's apartment bed wants to be made by me so that it looks ready for someones arrival. So many things call on me so that I might be able to do it, but I still just sit here drinking my coffee that calms me. I continue to type certain computer keys to make words that you can read. . .
And yet I feel as if I might fail at both typing and with the many things that need to be done. For Jeff Buckley's falsetto is pulling me into a deep sleep that tempts me very much. The thought of sleeping and relaxing is such a wonderful thought to me at this very moment. So much that other things don't even seem like something that needs to be done. But sleep is something that I need to get done, so I may be ready for the days ahead of me. . .
"No," I say in response to this wonderful thought that came into my head. For although it is a wonderful thought and it tempts me so, it can not be. So many things need to be done, and some need to be done by a certain time. . .so no is all I can say. . .
But my mind is utterly confused with this strange and odd decision I have made.
"What?. . .why?. . ."
And all I can say is. . .
"I don't know. . . ."