Sunday, August 9, 2009

Driving slow on Sunday Mornin'

So, its Sunday.
Rise and Shine.
I woke up this morning from the most annoying voice of a West Indian.
My dear, dear, aunt.
Lawless, yet respectable.
The alarm upstairs goes off.
Instead of walking up that one flight of stairs,
She believes deep down in her spirit that its okay to make enough noise,
Scream my name from the depths of her soul,
In order to wake me to turn it off.

Craziness.

Of course, I ignored, seeing how she dragged me out of bed at ELEVEN O'CLOCK to accompany her to party amongst the middle aged.
We got in the house around 5-ish.
During the drive home, I counted on my fingers " 6-1, 7-2, 8-3, 9-4, 10-5, 11-6, 12-7, 1-8".
Thats how many hours of sleep I'd have if I was lucky enough to fall asleep by 6.

After waking up to such torment,
I can't help but to move at the slowest speed available.

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