see you in September
A line in a Steely Dan song says, “I was on the other side of no tomorrow.”
I fell sound asleep in the big chair yesterday after work, a newly checked out library book in my lap, the remaining two-thirds cup of coffee in my right hand. Then I was immediately awake, warm and wet with the coffee I’d dipped all over me and the book. Every article of clothing wet with hot coffee, some of the book’s pages off-and-on brown, beginning to wrinkle. Amazingly no coffee on the chair or Ann’s wonderful and most expensive carpet.
The “Stranger Things” t-shirt might be ruined. The shorts got washed. I’ll cop to the book’s changes to the head librarian when I bring it back. This ongoing lack of sleep and periodic crashing in the middle of whatever caused the Steely Dan line from “Katy Lied” (“Dr. Wu”) to float through my mind.
Yesterday’s post here in ‘Couch Surfing’ felt rather universal and celebratory of what’s most important. Today’s is a short story about a boy on the other side of no tomorrow. Since I pay for this space, I get to be me in it. To see the September calendar on the wall, and wonder where summer went. To notice stuff, and sometimes share the noticing.