People that get up early in the morning love to tell you just that and just how early. I have to say I admire people that can actually do it with some finesse and style. Me? I am subterranean plant life covered in skin; maybe there’s a bit of caffeine trying to seep through my sleeping pores but other than that at 6AM—I am still, for the most part, fast asleep. My eyes are open, but my brain is resting, believe me.
I was on my way into Boston today on the 6:06 train. The sky was overcast and grey. The air had a slight chill to it but it wasn’t raining, yet. After finding a seat, I was half thinking about nodding off for a bit when I looked around the car at the people I was riding with. Man, oh, man. The scene was like something right out of a vintage Stanley Kubrick movie. I was riding with a car full of zombies of which I was one. Some people had their heads slightly cocked to the left or the right, their eyes as glazed over as a Krispy Crème Donut, and beta waves straighter than a barbershop razor. Maybe there was some drool spilling out of the sides of the mouth as well, I couldn’t be sure. It was Dawn of the Dead on the commuter rail.
There was a real go-getter sitting across from me reading a book on “Epidemiology”. I’m thinking, dude, it’s not even seven o’clock, put that crap away, you’re totally freaking me out.
There’s another guy at the far end of the train that looks waaay out there.
Serial-killer-out-there. The only thing moving are his beady little dark eyes. Ewww, he was creeping me out.
I’ve been taking the earlier train because it gives me a bit more time before I have to get to work after getting into Boston. Maybe it’s better, I don’t know. This time of the morning has never thrilled me anyway. Actually, truth be told, I think it s-u-c-k-s the proverbial big one. People that have that “up and at ‘em” mentality are in desperate need of sedation. Alright, maybe I’m just jealous because at this time of the morning my brain is covered with this icky cranial spooge of sorts. Java doesn’t remove it, no matter how many cups of the stuff I put into my body. A three wood to the groin could possibly work but that’s nuts. I’m better off joining the “friends of Van Winkle” faction already twenty winks ahead of me. Our waking hours are so overrated…
© michaelm 2005