Poetry Is Sleep

Trying to make my way to my delivery in Zebulon, North Carolina. I had intended to drop this load last night, but it didn’t quite work out. Now I’m probably looking at a live unload. Fine. Whatever. But I wish I’d managed to get it up there last night so that I could’ve gotten a full sleep period. These 2-4 hour naps are killing. I’m just not recharging. And I’m sleepy all the time. But I have only myself to blame.
To make matters worse, I’m overdue for a shower. So I’m miserable. I won’t know what the prospects for a shower are until I know where I’m going next. It’s quite possible a whore bath with Wet Ones may be in order.
But really, the only thing on my agenda is more sleep. I could write poetry to the concept of sleep right now.

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