3am

She says it's cold outside and she hands me my raincoat

She's always worried about things like that

She says it's all gonna end and it might as well be my fault

And she only sleeps when it's raining

And she screams and her voice is straining

chorus:

She says baby

It's 3 am I must be lonely

When she says baby

Well I can't help but be scared of it all sometimes

Says the rain's gonna wash away I believe it

She's got a little bit of something, God it's better than nothing

And in her color portrait world she believes that she's got it all

She swears the moon don't hang quite as high as it used to

And she only sleeps when it's raining

And she screams and her voice is straining

[chorus]

She believes that life is made up of all that you're used to

And the clock on the wall has been stuck at three for days, and days

She thinks that happiness is a mat that sits on her doorway

But outside it's stopped raining

[chorus]

three a.m. left right left right left right. i watch my feet bring me from the carpeted cubicle to the non-carpeted floor, pass a door, onto the carpeted corridor, make a right to the coffee room. actually it isn't even a "room" per se, just a counter with the coffee machine, a sink, a toaster and a mini fridge. and as i heat up my "dinner", i think about all the things i have done in the past, some of the things i am doing now, and stuff i will be doing in the near future. sometimes it baffles even myself why on earth i did some things i did when i could have had it a thousand and one other ways. these puzzles are revisited now and then, with me trying to comprehend my actions (and inactions). i try to rationalize things, yet time and again the effort has proven to be less than successful. perhaps it's not that important as i thought, to understand 'why'. perhaps i should just carry on with life and contemplate less about the past. or perhaps i should hop onto a time machine and go back to my past as a third person and see things from the outside to get a better, more objective view...

the beeper of the microwave goes off, i retrieve my cow food and watch my feet bring me back to my cubicle again. if i could find a time machine, if there is such a thing, i wouldn't hesitate for a second to go back to my past. but for now, as i enjoy the tiny slice of haven in the eight and a half hours of mundane routine, i shall pepper my mind with more interesting and stimulating questions. like, where to find a time machine. or how to build an empire to take over the world and demolish the evil power and/or corporations once and for all. maybe hire a mad scientist (who has a good heart) to come up with a protein that could recognize the trait of gluttony (assuming of course, that it is a genetic trait), have the protein couple with that part of the gene and subsequently cause the whole organism to undergo self-destruction. that would be the epitome of applied biotech at its best in the real world, and the world will never be the same again. or maybe i could write a book about intense topics. something like what george orwell or aldous huxley wrote. hmmm.

okay that was me being lame and nonsensical. back to work. (although, i wouldn't mind if someone steals my idea and invent that protein that kills evil, evil people. really, i wouldn't mind.)

happy thursday! will i work this weekend? will see.

p.s. the above italicized portion is the lyrics from the song "3 a.m." by matchbox 20. (in case you're wondering).