First Five Seconds.

Wake up, look outside, still the line for gas.
It feels like a movie, not a funny one either.
Lay back down and close my eyes, not my ears.

Listen.

The sound of artificial wind, and a tiny snore.

Think.

Get out of the cocoon to use the facilities?
Stay where I am and ignore my bladder.
Watch the skies for rain clouds.
Imagine warm wet grass beneath my feet.
Pretend I am listening to a live jazz ensemble.
Not the radio, but France instead.
Consider green tea instead of coffee.
Despite knowing that I am going with coffee.
Don't forget to work on yourself today.

Maintenance.

Check that gas line again: yup, still there.
Move things with my brain, in my brain.
This goes here, that goes here also.

Compartmentalize.

That would be a show I might watch.
The Compartmentalizer.
Well, not me, but someone. You.
Maybe.
What do I do with the royalties?
Save it I guess, that is what you are supposed to do.

Plan.

Decide to leave the cocoon.
Brush my teeth while I am up.
Check the windows, it looks like a good one out there.
I appreciate this clarinet solo.
I'm digging this.
It's touching on a very certain nerve in my brain.

Enjoy.

Get up, get dressed, get Burger dressed.
Cereal, coffee, apples and coffee.
I knew it.

Go team!

Take Five.

I'm sitting here at the house, it is quiet, the Boy is in bed and it is raining outside.

I am alone, which is nothing new as of late and recently.

I'm talking physically, not spiritually or whatever.

I am alone in my head.

Taking stock.

Wondering.

I was in a building today, an old institutional one with that kind of floor that you see in old schools and government buildings. Google image search is failing me right now, but it looks like a million pebbles flattened into a base of resin, and then polished to a high gloss. You know what I mean.

Close your eyes and picture first grade, and what the floor looked like. 

That.

Anyways, it wasn't so much how the floor looked, but how it smelled.

It took me right back to a particularly pleasant job I had as a janitor at a hospital.

One of my favorite times to have that job was when we would close off a hallway and re wax the floors.

First we would wipe it down with a chemical stripper, and then scrape it off with a large floor buffer.

We would do this at least twice, to make sure we got all the old wax up and off the floor.

Next we would rinse the floor a few times, allowing about 5 minutes between each rinse so the floor could dry.

Then came the new wax, and this stuff had such a great smell, I mean, as far as chemicals that you probably shouldn't drink are concerned, this stuff smelled delicious! And this would go on with at least four coats with a drying time of about 15 minutes between each coat. 

By the time we were done doing this, the shift was over and the floor was like a sheet of oiled glass.

It was beautiful.

The stripped down linoleum was so dry and cracked and flat, but with the wax, SHAPOW! 

Brand new floor.

Today in this building I got a whiff of that wax and it almost made me cry.

It took me right back to a different life, in a different place... a different me.

I had to bolt from the building.

I didn't even grab any of those free NYC condoms that they are always trying to give out.

No time!

Must. Run. From. Past.

And now what? This is a time for pondering. What have I got to say for myself?

Fresh, new me.

What's up with that guy?

Lot's of stuff that'd make your head spin.

That's what.

lovmatewh