losing

Sunday morning, awake first, get up, go to the bathroom.
The head is fuzzy cannot see properly.
And there is no way to blame the drink, there has been no alcohol for well over a year now.
No alcohol for over a year, no cigarettes for over twenty.
And still all those symptoms, it would be nice to blame the social drugs.
But that is that, the drugs have not been taken.
That is it.

The backache returns

This is all not fair.
It would be nice to lie down in peace and quiet.

Make coffee.
Take to the couch in the sitting room.
Lie down, fall asleep. Even the coffee just made and drunk will not keep the sleep away.

Two hours later, wake up, realise that the wall clock has stopped,
It would be good to go out and rest in the garden.
But there is no garden,
There is now wish to attack the mess.
It is a losing battle