I fell sleep on the couch last night, just as you see the boy here in this picture but with my eyes closed, in the dark. I had stayed up reading. He woke me up in the middle of the night and told me to go to bed. It might have been mildly perplexing for him to see me wrapped in sleeping bags and unconscious in the living room.
It is becoming clear that my only real goal of late is to sink myself in debt. I was looking at guitars this morning, a butterscotch blonde Fender Telecaster with a maple neck: $1500. I didn't buy it. I rarely ever play the sunburst Stratocaster that sits in its case underneath the piano, without an accompanying amp or pedals. I keep telling myself that one day soon I'll get back into playing music. I sit at the piano and the same old tired chords arrive, just a handful of majors and minors, a few notes thrown in here and there that I don't really understand, but are pleasant enough to listen to.
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