sure sign of the morning after

Like I was telling Jason as I wrote the blog below, in all likelihood I would wake up, reread it, and think, damn, I have to stay away from the blog when I'm thinking too much. It's akin to the feeling you get when you realize you've drunk-dialed someone at four in the morning who really won't appreciate it. Who'll complain to all their friends that you, the asshole, woke them up from a deep and sweet-dreams-sleep to shout "I fucking love you, man! You're the greatest! I should have slept with you when I had the chance!" (I've never said that to anyone, for the record)

Anyway, things'll get figured out eventually, life's good, I really can work hard if I want to, and somewhere there's a grad school or an orchestra that wants me, barring I don't suck up the audition.

After I did eventually crash last night, 4 or so, we had the mother of all storms. I woke up from my coma thinking someone was mad at me- a man's voice was yelling- to find that the thunder was so loud car alarms were going off in the street. Patient owners would turn off the alarms, only to find they were required to stay awake for the next several batches of thunder to perform the same duties. I've never heard anything quite so loud (except maybe MxPx at the Warped Tour).

Chris comes back today, and before I pick him up it essential that I do my laundry, and practice. Ha!