Night After Night

I've had a series of unforgettable days. Benders. Party plots. Shows. Late-night excursions. Owlings. You don't get to be me and everything without living like this. Sleep is a concession. Saying no to social time a sin. I have squeezed every last bit of this weekend out of the metaphorical toothpaste tube. And I am content that none of the important chemistry was misspent. My mother bought me a new toothbrush, but it's for lefties. And that isn't a metaphor at all.