Three crazy days draped in haze
Foggy memories, litter the roads
Masquerades and monsters’ ball
Selfish shindig shoveling dirt on egos
Alone in the corner, content with my lot
Socialites strained through indifference
Weep and wail, stone faced security
Seeking reparations for years not lived
Same age as a car my father owned
Resale value is relative. I’m a classic.
Hurtling down hills caked in obstacles
No insurance for the worst case.

Halloween on a Saturday should come with a warning label.  By Friday I was already 12 hours into a party.  Saturday night felt like a final exam.  I got an A+ in Letting Things Go, but only a B in Not Giving A Fuck.  Even now, on Monday, I’m still exhausted.  Not to say the weekend was bad.  There are some particular highlights I will carry with me even when I leave Memphis.  On the whole, I prefer my holidays on a weekday.  More people I like are off work during the week.

I just swallowed a cocktail of vitamins, NSAIDS and Benadryl.  No alarm clock set for tomorrow.  Sweet dreams are made of this.