There’s a party at the Barn

It’s 12:30am Wednesday morning and I’m not sleeping again. Not sleepy… maybe choosing not to sleep. I’m actually not sure which.

Earlier today a friend posted on FB (by the way, that’s where I’m spending most of my time these days) he was headed up to the barn to get some ink done. Sigh. Sitting at my desk (it’s really a table, I don’t have a desk… and don’t even ask about ‘an office’) I pondered on that statement just long enough to get a lump in my throat.

I’m here, they’re there. And life goes on.

I may have to drink a bottle of Jack this weekend just so I can pretend I’m there.

If, somehow, someone, were to read this and happened to get the Barn Bunch together for a ‘biker’ style (you know, fingers, moons, maybe ‘twins’) group photo and sent it to me… I’d be really grateful.