Decompressing

Decompressing. That is what I am doing. I am decompressing. Been up since around 3 A.M. or so. Spent a big chunk of that time lying in bed, pretending that I was asleep. Kept telling myself it was time to shut off the brain and just enjoy a few zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

But the brain wasn't having any part of it. Let me see, how can I best describe this. Ok, here is a visual of what was going on inside my head, ready:

Imagine you are in a warehouse designed to hold 100 people, but this one has 200 in it. And everyone of them is screaming out loud. Every one of these people is desperate for attention. The noise and chaos created by these people is unreal. As all of this is going on one man tries to force them into becoming organized. One man somehow manages to get them to quiet down slightly so that the roar is now a buzz.

And still, there is confusion. Why in my dreams must I be assaulted by elevator music. I swear while all this craziness is going on I can hear all sorts of crap being played. How many times must I hear her sing "Clang, clang, clang went the trolley..." Show tunes and heavy metal, squealing guitars and the frantic energy of the mosh pit.

I don't know if that really does it justice. All I know is that for a moment I felt like my head was going to explode and then I took a deep breath and relaxed...a little. Slowly the noise disappeared and I felt the tension oozing out of me.