nocturnal transmission.

So it's around 4:00 AM EDT, and I woke up to pee. And I started thinking about things. Well, not thinking-thinking so much as feeling a low-grade dread precipitated countless simmering anxieties all at once. It's a veritable stew of neuroses. In place of a carrot medallion, there's a nagging fear that I'll keep falling behind in my work indefinitely because I just just don't give a shit about it anymore. There's a kidney bean of an angst about death and disease, of course. This discolored potato chunk has something to do with my unshakable realization that I am ugly and old and getting uglier and older day by day. This bit of tomato means it's too late—too late to start over. And—what the hell is this thing anyway? A chickpea? It chides me about everything I meant to do but lost track of along the way. A chiding chickpea. (Season to taste.)