Obligation. I think that's what you call it. Last night I felt like I was obligated to go and see a play. It was work related. The playwright was happy that I saw the show. The actors were in clown face. I shouldn't say anymore.
I got home late, caught a few minutes of TV, and drifted off to sleep. Around 5 a.m., I woke up just after having this very vivid dream about cornbread. Crispy on the edges. Buttered perfectly.
Cray-zee. Koo-koo.
It must have been those damn clowns.
In other news, it's cool and breezy and pretty perfect this a.m. And it's Friday.