I’m Going Back To Bed ©

The story — in my words

I wrote this on a Tuesday morning after waking up feeling like a human bowl of Rice Krispies—just snap, crackle, and pop in every joint. I was sitting in a drafty waiting room for a routine checkup, watching 'crazy Mrs. Stone' mumble to herself and hearing Old Johnson nod through a conversation he couldn't actually hear. It struck me how much work it is just to keep the engine running once you hit a certain mileage. We cut this track with a bit of a shuffle to keep it light, because if you don't laugh at the bunions on your soul and the shrinking of your gums, you'll probably just end up crying in the pharmacy line. It’s an honest look at the golden years that aren't always so gold.