It is almost 4:00am.
I have a beautiful boy, sound asleep in my bed. I think. Maybe he's listening to me typing.
I have tons of Shiraz and Pinot Grigio in the kitchen, and in my belly.
I don't want to go to sleep.
I cannot sleep. I feel much too awake.
If I go to sleep, I will wake up, and be almost thirty.
I will have to sleep at some point, but for now, I will just mooch a cigarette off of the V-Man, and pretend, in my head, that I am sixteen.