One Hand's Got To Wash The Other in The eye of every storm

I can’t sleep on airplanes, and apparently I can’t keep my debit card in my pocket for WiFi. The thought of sticking this 3.5 hour ride to San Jose I’m currently on without music is mind numbing. I think to myself, “how did I use to get through this,” and then I remind myself, “Oh, self, you read, and were generally a hell of a lot smarter because of it.” Currently, Dawn Chorus is playing, by Thom Yorke, and seven miles above the earth, I am indeed watching the dawn.

I’m so tired. Fourteen years ago, I would do this all the time, just jump on the Company plane and go. Once I flew from Las Vegas to New York City, all because there was a girl who wanted to give me a blowjob and the fact that I could. I didn’t even sleep, just landed, hung out, got Central Park head, and flew back early the next morning. I wish this weren’t a true story, but 2006 was different times, know what I’m sayin?

I worked from 1400-0400, yesterday afternoon into this morning. At 0400, I went to the airport, and am now on a plane. When the plane lands, it will be 0900PST/1100CST, putting me awake for 26 hours. I’ll head down to the Four Points, Downtown San Jose, and check in, and then catch a Lyft over to the Winchester Mystery House, where I purchased the Mansion tour and the “Explore More” tour, severely underestimating my stamina when I planned this all out. As I was saying, I have no idea how I used to do this all the time. But, on the flipside of that coin- free flights, why have I NOT been doing it for so long?

In other news.

I haven’t heard my wife’s voice in over two months. Other than the Merry Christmas text, I haven’t heard from her at all. This leads me to believe the following:

it’s over.

It feels there is nothing I can do about it any longer. I’ve tried to communicate, but if its not reciprocated, then it’s just nothing more than a reminder of failure, loneliness, and longing. I’ve remained mostly objective about this, but at work this morning, that “its over” thought crossed my mind. It was heavy, like an anvil upon my chest where upon death forges the blade that kills our relationship. My chest physically hurt and it was all I could do to hold in the gasping sob desperately trying to escape. For maybe a minute, I felt completely hopeless and completely pointless and aimless. I think sometimes you’ve got to take more than you need of these emotions. Even when you don’t want to take that much.

So it goes.

And there’s no sleep.
And there’s no rest.
And there’s no future.

But one hand’s got to wash the other.