MEMO 001 - 3:14AM

got home from the bar a little while ago. feet hurt, hands smell like lime and sanitizer, and my head is too loud to sleep again.

funny how the world goes quiet and thats exactly when your thoughts decide to start talking. all the stuff i didn't have time to feel today is lined up at the front desk now, waiting to be checked in.

i used to hate this hour. now i kind of think of it as the only time i'm actually honest with myself. no one asking what the plan is. no one to perform for. just me, the ceiling, and whatever is sitting in the fog.

if you're up right now too, viewer, i hope your head is a little kinder to you than mine is tonight.

go to sleep. we'll figure it out tomorrow.

THE RECEPTIONIST