I wrote a post yesterday about air traffic controllers sleeping on the job and I definitely felt the desire to do so today! I awoke this morning with the Velvet Underground lyrics "I Could sleep for a thousand years" whispering throughout my dim, tired noggin. Luckily I was able to make use of my girlfriend's car this morning, which allowed me a few extra minutes to zone out in the shower. I think it turned into a 40 minute shower. Shame on me for wasting hot water. I crawled into bed after midnight last night. My body's a bit more persnickety than it was last year. Less than 7 hours of sleep renders some slowed effects in my effectiveness. Last night Wood Sugars did the very first installment of the Playground Theatre podcast. Donny Kevin Rodriguez and Ever Mainard hosted interviews with Boyish, a group of regular performers at the Playground Theatre. Two other podcasts performed and recorded within the same hour as the Playground Podcast; Jessie and Matt's podcast, two very like-able hosts, and Ted Tremper, a very creative man, did the Near Death Podcast. These will all be coming very soon. I've mostly performed at the Playground Theatre, and last night was my first chance getting to sit back and enjoy the show. I enjoyed a pint of Fat Tire Amber Ale. I ran into my friend Dan at the 7/11 when I bought this bottle earlier in the evening. He recently popped the question to a lady and she said yes. The whole "live before studio audience" feel was pretty neat. Eliaz of Wood Sugars did a very nice job orchestrating the evening's show. This is a man who functions well creatively on 3 hours of sleep.
Just now my long curly hair shifted, almost felt like a bug knocking about my locks, but nonetheless it seems to have just been the weight of my hair falling over the crest of my ear upon which it rested. This startled me, like an angry hallucination. I could sleep for a thousand years.
Today I cold called someone who couldn't seem to hear what I was saying and so they kept on shouting "Who?! Who?! Who?!" repeatedly for almost a minute. It appears I spoke to an owl today.
On my drive home today I passed by the last chunk of the Cabrini Green buildings being torn down. It is all gone but a dismantled corner. Graffiti adorned one of the walls. By early next week I imagine it will all be rubble being discarded from trucks. It made me slightly sad. Especially seeing that etching of graffiti. That was once someone's decorative touch to a place called home.
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