September weather in Chicago can eat you alive. Some people thrive on rainy, windy 60 degree days. But these days also fill some of us with unrest. Of course, some of us thrive on days full of unrest... I awoke last night at about 2... the TV was still on, muted, and the screen cast its ever changing patterns of silent blue-tinged light upon Hendrix, asleep on a chair in the bay window.
The wind hissed through the cracked windows.
Hendrix twitched, letting out a muffled sleep-bark, no doubt in response to some dream rabbit.
I fumbled with the remote, trying to change the channel from a real estate-themed infomercial to something more suitable for sleeping... like televised poker.
The sleeping pill I popped 4 hours earlier rallied and I closed my eyes just as John Juanda made some sick call and spiked a pair of aces on the river to win a big pot.
Just before I drifted off, I remembered the song I was working on earlier that night before I fell asleep...
I heard the chorus in my head, loud and clear. I imagined I was singing it in the studio and at some point, imagining became dreaming.
I wondered if I was twitching in my sleep, chasing my own dream rabbit...
Time is passing as we sleep
The days are falling into weeks
And I'm still disappearing