Fix Me Fridays

On the clock less than an hour remains soon to be free Of this permanent relationship of  payer, payee. the hoops been jumped thru, moments long passed and bones are chewed what do you wanna say don’t write an essay it’s just Monday through Friday singing about life’s highway and time is not on our…

The Sunday Blues

Tomorrow the work week begins.    It will be Monday, bloody Monday.   I will drive my Jeep onto I-95, the beltway, where one is not safe unless fueled by caffeine or an upper of some sort, to navigate a sleepy mind thru the mad vehicular rush of the morning.  Once at my office building, the guards…