this bed

Well, it's the morning of Xmas eve.
O to be that ignorant child from long ago - giddy and galloping through the house anxious with anticipation.
Flash forward to this moment in time. A 27 year old man in his bed. A sheet over the window. A black room. Writing.
The voice on the radio says rain is on the way. Good. Puddles of rain reflecting a grey and swollen sky. 'Tis beautiful. Sometimes I'll drive around these city streets listening to Interpol or Joy Division as rain gently wraps against my metallic shell with wheels. Other times, just the sound of the windshield wipers is enough to send to me to some peaceful place.
I don't want to leave this bed. Fuck. I need to shower, shave, brush my teeth and prepare to leave for mom's. Every year on Xmas eve, sister and I spend the night at mom's so we can recreate that Xmas morning thing. I think it's ridiculous but I do it to make them happy. See, I'm not a completely selfish asshole.
I really hope UPS is delivering today. I was supposed to receive the Xmas gifts I ordered from Amazon.com yesterday but the brown truck never appeared. I'm going to feel like shit if I have no gifts for anyone.
An emptyhanded apologist.
'Tis the season...

mc