inlikeflynn

8:44am. raining. curtains drawn, warm in bed. the first place that comes to mind on a list of places I'd rather not be today is my office in Burbank. and yet, in less than an hour, that's where I'll be. pressed into the fake leather of my ergonomically efficient desk chair like gum into boot treads. sighing heavily, going cross-eyed listening to the steady hum of corporate gibberish and meaningless marketing jargon that hangs sponge-thick in the air like the buzz under powerlines. I'm the little two-room house built beside the power plant. my job is giving me cancer of the will.

24 hours ago, I was clinging to a chain bolted into rock 1450 feet above a canyon floor in Zion National Park, making my way to the peak at Angel's Landing. I finished the hike to and from the summit in 4 hours, making small talk with other hikers at the top and along the way down, stopping occasionally to take photographs. I celebrated my accomplishment at the park lodge with a locally brewed beer and a burger, then made the 7 hour drive home through Vegas to Los Angeles with the friend who had invited me to her parents' home in Utah for the weekend. at home I changed into comfortable clothes, made tea, and finished Lost's second season with my roommate who is feverishly working to catch up before the series' finale. I read for an hour, watched the series premiere of Doctor Who, and went to bed. and slept.

a deep sleep, no dreams. a sterile vacuum between. the only thing keeping yesterday and today from grinding up against and utterly annihilating one another.

harumph. Monday.