I should be asleep. I

I should be asleep. I wonder how many blog entries begin that way? We are a late-night bunch. In any case, I’m up doing a mix (hi Stuart!), but not the mix I’m supposed to be doing (hi Jamie!). That’s alright, I’ll get to it tomorrow. Or the next day. I did try to sleep for a while. The air was heavy, my neighbors were playing music just quietly enough so I can’t complain, and I had my nightly thought about Death. It’s getting to be a nasty habit. Laying on my side, my thoughts drift…to some horrible accident, or a burst appendix, or apnea, or any number of ways to die. And then I’m frightened. I’m afraid of death for a couple of reasons. First, I really dig being alive, and the thought that it could suddenly be all over scares the piss out of me. Second, I don’t have any faith in a hereafter. That can be a very comforting thing. Ah well, I makes my bed, I gots ta sleep in it. The thoughts come quickly, and I just as quickly turn them away. I don’t want to lay there and be morbid. I distract myself by thinking about work, sex, anything but stabbing pain and struggling to call an ambulance. Anything but getting hit by a bus. Anything but a heart attack on the riverfront. Er, excuse me while I go cruise some Hugh Jackman sites. I need an adjustment.

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