I'm not a morning person at all and I hate winter. I hate getting out of bed, hate getting up when it's dark outside and hate walking to the bus stop when it's cold.
But I like my little routine in the morning, my little ritual to start the day. I don't like it when something interrupts it, don't like it when someone calls and takes me out of it. When that happens, that someone will be dead by early afternoon.
Leave me alone in the morning, especially in the winter. Let me wake up the best way I know how.
I get out of bed, walk into my study and sit down at my desk. I don't turn on any lights, but I reach for my pack of cigarettes and light one. I draw on it every 30 seconds or so.
I let my mind wander. I let myself ramble to any thought it wants to.
Maybe I should call in sick today. ... Today is Tuesday. At least it's not Monday. ... Raindrops keep falling on my head, but that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turning red. Crying's not for me, 'cause I'm never gonna stop the raindrops from falling. ... Gee, sure pissed off a lot of political people with the "They Closed" story — nice to know I did something right. ... Do I have change for the bus? ... What the fuck am I gonna wear today? ... Today is Tuesday. I don't shave on Tuesdays. Thank god for small favors. ... Did Sara want a wake up call? I'll remember later. Hey, did you happen to see the most beautiful girl in the world? And if you did, was she crying? ... Is Charlie Rich dead? ...Do I have clean underwear to wear today? ... My chest feels funny maybe I'm having a heart attack. ... Jesus! Why do you keep looking at me, Dorey (my cat)? I'll feed you in a little bit. ... The Beverly Hillbillies. ... My foot's asleep. The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind, the answer is blowing in the wind. ... All right, I'm not having a heart attack. ... I gotta fix that story in the collection. Maybe I should call in sick. ...
My cigarette is done. I put it out and cough for 10 minutes. I get up from my chair and walk to the bathroom in the dark. I urinate. I then return to my desk and chair and light another cigarette. Time for round two.
I'm gonna play some Johnny Cash music tonight. ... I'm gonna cook that goose and I don't care if I'm the only person who eats it. ... God damn it, Dorey, stop looking at me. ... I need to stop smoking. ... Together again, my tears have stopped falling. The long lonely nights are now at an end. ... Is Buck Owens dead? ... Hey, did you happen to see the most beautiful girl in the word? ... Yeah, Charlie Rick is dead. ... I don't think I have anything to eat for breakfast. ... Will I ever write a novel or am I stuck as an essay and short story writer? ... I need to e-mail Jeff Hillard. ... Wait, I do have to shave on Tuesdays fuck! ... Did Sara want a wake-up call? I'll remember later. ... Marlo Thomas. ... Hee Haw. ... Maybe I'll have a third cigarette. ... Christmas time's a comin', Christmas time's a comin', Christmas time's a comin' and I know I'm going home. But everyone's dead. ... Richard Ford likes me. ... Greg Flannery. ... Karen Carpenter what a beautiful voice. ... Paul and Ringo, the only two left. ... The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind. ... Jesus Fucking Christ! Stop looking at me, Dorey!
Time to feed Dorey, time to turn on the lights, time to get the coffee going, time to write in my journal.
Time to get ready for work. Time to make the donuts.
