morning after mountaintop

Once more I'm loathe to get out of bed with enough time to truly wake up.
Bang Camaro couldn't fully do it.

Oddly, though, had I hustled my absolute hardest to the train, I probably would've made the 813. I considered chasing it to E. Rock, but discarded that thought immediately.

Read Solipsist again and did it to some slightly upbeat jazz in the background to temper its severity. I'm too dull right now to let the words effect me as much as they did on Tues.

Last nite we saw MountainTop with Samuel L. MF Jackson and Angela Bassett. He plays MLK and she plays a motel maid with a twist. We were in the middle of ORCH row BB, which I thought meant toward the back, but it was actually 2nd row. They were performing for us. That was a show worth staying out late. I doubt I'll ever forget it, b/w the strength of the material, quality of the actors and our MF seats.

This morning is a Chili-Chickenfoot mix of their upbeat new stuff. I do not look good. Between my hair in its slumber-inspired mohawk and the icy look in my eyes, I cannot imagine I'm an attractive figure.

Not a whole lot of particularly interesting stuff happening out here today. I must confess I think about my caffeine addiction often and I am interested to see how that will affect my lunch run. That will push me to 7 miles on the week and I'll chill out after that with running until Sun.

On Tues I thought the new Jane's Addiction was coming out but it's actually going to be a week from next Tues.

Thank you for reading.