So I'm sitting here on my seventh shift straight, tryin to make up time from my so called vacation. I'm happy that I garnered a floating holiday from Thanksgiving and I got it off for tomorrow, paid and all, so I make a little rendezvous plan that is strictly emotional, physical, passionate cuz every single fucking day since around mid October has been completely cerebral. 
Ahhh...I only have 3 and a half hours to go to start enjoying my much needed anti-thinking time. "I'm too tired to read. What the hell, it's King". I open the book and this is the first sentence, "Dan turned the corner from Morehead Street onto Eliot and paused."
Yeah...