A plane crashed into me.

My step mom shook me into consciousness. I had a half hour to consolidate my confusion and make sense out of this early life. There were stains on my t-shirt, invisible dollar bills hiding in my wallet, and a hot cup of coffee steaming swirls of delight beside my futon. My first comprehensible thought was that I had no thoughts about last night. What a horrible feeling. My next thought was that I had no time to think my thoughts. So I stopped thinking. Which is tough for me to do. I don't remember the next 25 minutes very well. There was cold air, hot water, toothpaste, and an unfriendly mirror. The next thing I thought was about my speed. It needed to be faster. So once again I was running to the train; my sole pounding against the icy pavement. The wind drew tears along my cheeks, and if I let them spill, I could make this train. I made it.

As I sat in my seat all I could see were planes swimming and people sleeping. Today's today, the people the same, the news...more buoyant. In the monotony of commute, I watched another train pass by. A young girl in the window shot an exciting smile and wave into our car. I smiled back. She had a fantastic energy for this time of day. Good for her. Its funny when you catch a train just in time. You rush and stumble in a frenzy, but when you finally make it everything stops. You stop. You feel a great sense of relief and victory, but now all you can do is relax. A great juxtaposition to your morning marathon. Now, the train does the moving for you. And though you're the one "going" to work. You're not going anywhere. For the most part you're staying incredibly still wishing it wasn't so early. Then the train arrives where you need to be, and you start going again. Probably not as fast as before, but at least you're the one moving. You're alive.

I wasn't so sure I was alive this morning. I sent out texts to close friends to clarify my existence. They confirmed my suspicion. There was no way I could be alive. I tugged at my memory's thick rope and desperately tried to pull my night into focus. Nothing. Last I could recall, my friend Colin bought me a shot. What a bad last memory. No offense to Colin (thanks for the shot btw) but it's not a good sign when your last memory is probably the reason that you have no memory. I felt queezy because of it. Not in a vomit sort of way, but in a "who was I last night?" kind. Some friends of mine call it "time travelling." I'd have to agree with them. I definitely wasn't in the tristate area at midnight last night. Anyway, I spent my spare time today mending any and all collisions I created. There weren't many. Mostly compliments actually. I was happy to have remembered everything pre-shot. Like This Condition. They played amazingly. I would say seeing them on stage was surreal, but it wasn't. It was the exact opposite actually. It was so incredibly real that it gave me goosebumps. I can't tell you how many bracelets I've worn and stamps I've gotten just to see them play, but it's always been worth it. I know they've got something special on their hands. And I hope it takes one too many showers to ever wash it off.

Works been great today. I made my cubicle my own. Made some friends my own. And then ate some ostrich! MmMm. I'm pretty much recovered, I guess you could say. And I was pleasantly surprised at how well coordinated my outfit was when glaring in the lobby mirror. It's good to realize that you're happy. And it's nice to know that the reason I can be as happy as I am all the time is because of my friends. The friends that found me falling asleep on a New York City street corner and put me into the futon where I belonged. Those friends. I love 'em.

Oh and that plane landed in the Hudson yesterday. I was like 2 blocks away. What the fuck, right? Felt like I needed to mention that since it's headlining this weeks show. I'm leaving work now. Enjoy your Friday.

Your friend,
Tim