I’m in bed. Yes, you heard that right, a bed. It took many hands to realize this wonder. Night 20. It’s 2:46 a.m. And I am so grateful to be in any bed, but especially my own. But my windows are open and someone is blasting their car radio and over that I can hear a burglar alarm and when those things aren’t going on, it’s conversations in French. Or Patois. It’s just loud enough so I can make it out but not loud enough for me to comprehend.
Once I do sleep, I’m going to sleep for an age. I’m going to die in this bed. Or maybe just sleep until my bones stop aching and my mind can think again.
Remember, Vene, you asked for all of this. So make the most of it. Remember every ache, every set back, every nuance of every doubt. This is all backstory for when you are the you that you always intended on becoming. Rome wasn’t built in a day. I mean, there was the whole Romulus and Remus thing and that probably happened fairy quickly. But stop being so literal.
Also, how did you go from two tried and true lovers to ZERO and then have four prospective suitors this fast? And mostly unintentional! Bueno, that is extra-curricular. The main intention of you on your back is to get rest. You can’t write if you can’t think. So prioritize.
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. And a goal without a plan is just a wish. So sleep as best you can, get up, and fight, goddamn it, fight! Otherwise, you might as well pack up and go home to Tucson.