#deadleg

I woke up this morning with my right leg completely numb. It’s a shame too, because I think I was actually pretty comfortable. It’s hard to find the perfect sleeping position in the front seat of a car. Being 6 feet tall doesn’t help either. By the time I was able to quell the pins and needles in my leg, I too had been woken up completely. I’m going to guess I was asleep for 3 hours. The last thing I remember of my dream is being at a Boston market with my little brother. He ordered a lemonade, and paid for it by throwing coins at the cashiers face, causing her to cry. I apologized to her and ran after my brother, demanding an explanation. He said that my parents were not letting him sleep with his girlfriend, instead forcing him to spend his nights in a car. I told him that he should stop listening to them because he’s 27. Sleeping in a car isn’t so bad, provided the back isn’t full of musical equipment. Being horizontal does wonders for ones ability to sleep soundly. Although Ariel seems to have a knack for it, despite also being over 6’. I’m gonna blame the steering wheel. But I think the hardest part about tour, without a doubt, is the temptation… We are sleeping in a Loves truck stop somewhere between Marfa and San Antonio, TX. It is going to take all the will power I possess not to go inside and buy a sausage and egg biscuit and gluttonously consume it. I know it’s a bad decision. I know I will be cursing myself the rest of the day if I eat one. I know I’m going to feel like shit later… and yet… oh lord, give me the strength to conquer my demons and just have a few bananas. Hallelujah.