The other night, I found myself 30 minutes away at an ungodly hour, sitting down to eat at a place that never closes. When the waiter asked what I was doing, awake and all, I promptly informed him, “Haunted by my past. Couldn’t sleep.”
Thoughts have been bubbling. Rather than ignore them, I’ve been letting them play out. An old friend has been a large part of it. And that’s all there is to it.
A group of us were sitting out by the fire last night. My brother said, “Where’s Mandi?” as though she hadn’t been gone, years, for reasons well understood.
“She should be here,” he told me.
For the first time in forever, she appeared online and left traces of herself at a blog. The coincidence is just enough to remind me of the kind of reality I sleep off.
“It seems as though the battle of life has just begun. Some believe it starts at birth but I know for a fact the battle starts as soon as you hit rock bottom for the umteenth million time…”
So what do I do, so low on sleep? Throw an oversized hoodie over my pajama pants and hit another cafe. I’ll act brainless over a plate of sausage gravy and biscuits.
Sounds like a plan.