My phone rings and suddenly I'm on the stage crew again. Hmmm...
I had been toying with the disturbingly comforting idea of having a clinically dissociative episode, but now I have to work in the morning- I guess my cognitive breakdown will have to be postponed-at least until after the Grateful Dead tribute show is over...eighteen hours or so.
I will be ass-deep in a sea of tripping hippie wannabees...all night.
I will remain functional, lucid and rational out of sheer spite, if nothing else.
Have I ever told you that I used to be a bus-following, tie-died, high-dosage Dead Head?
Blue Dove...far out, maaaan. How many Grateful Dead songs have I played on the radio over the last three years?
Zero. None. I can barely stand the sound of them anymore. Blue Dove, far-out maaaaannn...
In any case, it feels like tomorrow is some sort of Karmic event. I just hope it's a good one.