Couch Surfing

I wanted to write about the rest of my Vegas trip, but Vegas isn’t in me right now. I'm without Vegas. I'm sure it will come back, it always does. For now I guess I’ll write about something else.

I woke up this morning on the couch. My shoulder was stiff from lying in the same position for so long. Sunlight broke through the window, a long ray of it burning through my eyelids. Why, no matter where I am, does that single sunbeam fall on me? Louder than the birds and traffic combined, bright, almost magnified, on my sleeping face. I squinted and coughed and pulled myself up. The television was on, a movie I’ve seen a million times. I reached before me to the coffee table and grabbed a half empty bottle of beer then I took a long hard swig of it. I thought about what I had to do.

• Feed the cats.
• Change the litter.
• Read a book.
• Write an outline to an essay on book once finished.
• Do laundry.
• Write essay from said outline.
• Begin another book.
• Get cigarettes.
• Get beer.
• Eat.

In that order.