Epistemysics

Some theatre each day keeps the doctor away…

Another One Down

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The world feels out of joint tonight, and I have a painful headache.  (As opposed to a pleasant headache, apparently.)  The time is late, the spirit sags, and bedclothes, cold, call out for human warmth.

A wasted day, a wasted shift.  Unless one is an epicurean, and then this life of mine is right on track.

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Written by epistemysics

September 11, 2013 at 5:13 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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