[6] FRIDAY NIGHT LISTS
The grogginess of waking up past your normal time. The strange dreams you don’t bother to interpret, and certainly don’t tell anyone. The Szechuan leftovers in the fridge. The mouth-numbing tingling feeling of peppercorns that make your mouth water with desire and delight. The work phone calls that connected you to two different people with two different dreams on two different coasts. The personal phone call that connected you to an ex-lover with whom you used to share dreams. The thirty minutes spent writing. The thirty minutes spent breathing. The infinite minutes spent thinking about doing both of those things and the minutes spent putting them off. The fading light of day, giving birth to the night. The night that is young. The possibilities that still await.
