I take full responsibility

I was awake around four aye em.  I don’t  know why. I do, but nighttime bathroom runs are nothing new. The inability to go back to sleep is not so common anymore. I blame the wife. Her CPAP sounded like a jet engine for some reason. As I lie there, a perfectly acceptable post composed itself in my head along with two emails for work and that spreadsheet I have tried to construct for three days. Finally, my brain tired, I dozed with some weird-assed dreams until the wife’s alarm woke me. 

And it’s gone. The one perfectly composed email is still rattling around my skull. The rest disappeared into the dark recesses of my brain waiting to be lured out with cheese or JuJubees. Even then I suspect the post idea will be like a recalcitrant three year old hiding behind the recliner: “no, no I will not come our”. 

I think the post slipped off with that short story I thought of back in ‘05. I guess they are already on a drunken spree, throwing beer bottles at mailboxes while racing up country roads heading towards Chicago in a ‘72 Torino.  I suspect The Rolling Stones’ Missing You is playing at high volume and the windows are down. Faded memories do not care what gas costs these days. Oh no, I think they just spilled Cheetos all over the front seat. Ehew, is that a beef jerky fart? 

This is my fault. I should have just gotten up and written the post when it popped in my head instead of going back to sleep.