Whenever I try to fall asleep, my ears get 10x as sensitive. Maybe it's some kind of primal instinct to protect myself. I went to bed later than I had planned last night after a long and useless time at work. I came home eager to complain to a black home and sleeping companion. Instead of just forgetting about how much I hate serving and tipping and people not tipping though understanding why they aren't yet thinking they're bastards for it anyway, I held it in to dream about it, waking up frequently to stare out the open door just above my head, with the broken screen, where the lamp-post never goes out making the Boston fern on the balcony look like a succulent: unmoving and on edge.

This morning I woke up to Daniel getting ready and immediately freed last night's complaints. But when I closed my eyes to sleep again I heard this tinny and tiny music resembling the Killers. I've heard it before. I can just barely hear drums and some male voice, but the source is unclear. Whether or not this music exists outside of my own brain I don't know for certain.