Raising my head from the pillow at 7am I realize that the sun hasn't even bothered to get up yet. Why would it? The warm weathered weekend has ended and the best we can expect is a rise to 52 degrees from the southern cruel 33 that it is now.
Does Mother Nature know that some weird workings are about to transpire and has decided to turn a cold shoulder? Is she protesting the snubbing of "Pushing Daisies" by The Golden Globes and the lack of pretty dresses and rambling thank you speeches? Maybe she's just sleeping off the excesses of a really good party...
Meanwhile, I'm up and at 'em like Atom Ant without the Napoleonic complex - ready to help where I can but not making a fuss about it. For my theme song I've chosen The Godfathers' "Unreal World". They can point out all that is wrong, slaughtering the culprits with those guitars that remind us that 1991 was not that far away from the eighties, while I walk amongst the falling during that gorgeous Association-like refrain - not a victim, yet victimized nonetheless.
Through it all, I refuse to wear my heart on sleeve. Because that's where I keep my record collection.
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