Speak before you think.

Early morning cold taxi, and I think that was a song by the Who but I can’t really remember the lyrics. However it kind of reminds me, the title does, of coming out of someone’s apartment in your early twenties at seven or eight in the morning and squinting and feeling your contacts crusted and wondering just what the hell went on the previous evening. That’s not something I’ve really experienced in a while but for some reason that song came up on the ol’ iPod (tankPOD) the other day and that sort of memory came flooding back. The funny thing is that I had forgotten that remembrance of a memory until just this second when I sat down at the keyboard half-asleep and started typing away. I reckon this type-before-you-think thing may help snap me out of the literary funk of the past two days. Not that I’m apologizing for the funk per se (who used per se when they’re half-asleep you moron?) but I don’t think it’s particularly healthy to wallow. Wallow. Swallow. I’m thirsty. Coffee. Yeah. Cereal and coffee. Now I can’t even think about typing, all I can think about is breakfast so goodbye I’m eating.