Notes From The Underground...

Go home. Shit. Shower. Shave. Sleep. Wake up. As they say there is no rest for the wicked. As if that three-day ordeal I just returned from in New York wasn’t enough, I only got to enjoy a three-hour nap only so I could go to court in New Jersey. I was trying to present myself as a respectable young man so I buttoned up my starched laundry white shirt. I accompanied it with my pair of pleated khaki pant, capped it all off with my dark brown leather dress shoes. Now I was ready for my second court appearance within the past twelve hours, but first things first, straight downstairs to brew up a pot of hot, black, delicious coffee. Sucked down cup after cup just to try to be somewhat alert for this second round of bullshit. Step out into the sunlight and it blinds me, it was definitely one of those mornings where you want to crawl into a cocoon mass of blankets and forget the rest of the day. No choice though, when the state calls, you answer. Slink into the passenger seat of the new SUV, roll into the back where the soft tan leather couch in the rear caresses my weary bones. It has that new leather smell that just hits your senses so subtlety. This car was new as it was a replacement car. For the same exact one we just had. In addition, the reason we were going to court was due to the destruction of the car this new one replaced.