Noticing.Twenty-Two

Three days of going to bed after 10pm makes me feel like sluggish garbage. I’d turn in earlier, but I’m trying to be social; I’d sleep later, but I need my morning sanctuary. Still a little distressed after how difficult it was writing yesterday. The Evil Auctioneer clears his throat and steps up to the mic. I used to love watching the clouds roll in, anticipating the sounds and sights and smells of a summer storm. Now, all it means is a day trapped inside with a helium ion pretending to be...