I was one of those “old at 18" people. Yes, 54 is young but when you’ve held the hand of your soul mate through her last breath, you graduate to something else. In eight and a half years, I haven’t figured out what that something else might be.

I’m on call, for a soda company. I’ve gotten one decent night’s sleep since last Friday. If I were saving lives this would be okay. But I’m not and it’s not. And this is the kind of thing we do to millions of people every year.

Lack of sleep brings on my particular kind of darkness. I thought I’d write about it last night. Because, with Medium, I can and I have an audience. Sometimes we just want to be heard. And sometimes what we say touches exactly the right ears.

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father, motorcyclist, old retired guy who’s just a little lost on a blue marble corkscrewing its way to oblivion

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