Drossy Drudgery

I arose around 11am this morning after a rather unsound slumber. Nightmares of the groom I drove the night before handing me a $100 tip and after stuffing it into my pocket, I discover later that it was lost, all that time wasted. I was semi-conscious of my cat attempting to rouse me, as is her morning ritual. As I sat on the edge of my bed in the darkness, mildly aware of the presence of the air-conditioner blowing out cool air, I felt a profound sense of complete and hopeless despair enveloping me. The kind of dysphoria that reduces me to a useless, catatonic lump of flesh. A slideshow of all my failures and desultory, bleak future pointing fingers and laughing in my face. The disequilibrium of my schedule makes days melt together, one indiscernable from the next. Time evaporates on the streets, sitting in traffic, endless construction. Sometimes I act as a psychologist, absorbing strangers problems or observing young bachelorettes wax maudlin late at night. Very few people actually have anything relevant or interesting to say after all the polite smalltalk has dribbled out their lips. I drove a doctor from Salt Lake City a couple days ago and had a good conversation with him about his research of a rare blood disease and the organisms that inhabit the mysterious Great Salt Lake. I don't know where this is going. I'm making a Screwdriver.