August was a steady month of early bedtimes.
Suddenly it's October and I'm always tired.
I should be writing some of this down.
Readings around town, sticky dance floors, theme nights, Three Penny Opera, screaming at the wind
Songs about poltergeists, free chocolate pudding, $5 pitchers, open mic sing-a-longs and stolen statues of David
A leak in your sun roof, knee high socks, watching a biker get hit in slow motion and pulling his bent bicycle out of a puddle
Fat tires, McCain-as-goblin, fancy wine at your friend's bougie job, wondering if you really like me all that much or if I'm just used to being loved more than anything else in this world...
I'm best at beginnings.
Yeah?
I'm not talking about jet ski accidents.
