Back to Work

It’s really amazing how 10 hours of sleep can change my attitude.  When I was on the road, I’d fall into bed each night thinking I’d hit the wall of exhaustion like a rotten grape and there was no way I could get out of bed in eight hours, get back in that death-box Dacia and visit five hotels, seven restaurants, and four museums in two different cities the next day.  But come morning, I’d wake up like a coiled spring and after a coffee I’d have that old crazy grin, ready to break the back of a new city (or two). And so the process went.

The same is happening at home.  Yesterday I thought I’d need a week before I could face work without uncontrollably sobbing on my keyboard, but I’ve already got a mind to start putting dents in the work.  I know better though.  I have to rest more or I’ll just run out of gas that much sooner.  I’m gonna give myself one more day to goof off and them ease back into work by doing some auto-pilot map mark-ups with some Beastie Boys and Beck serenading me into a burst of wild productivity.  
Meanwhile there’s some dead money on waiting to be relieved of their play-chips.