It was early summer, and after my fourth set on Wednesday night I lingered at the club and partied all night. It was still early when I got to my house; the sun was just starting to crack the morning sky.As I pulled into the driveway, I saw a bunch of stuff piled up in the front. It looked like Cindy was preparing for a garage sale, until I looked closer and saw that all my worldly possessions were on the grass. I guessed Cindy was pissed. OK, more than pissed. As I stared at the pile, I saw my neighbor leave his house and walk to his car, heading for work. He was wearing a suit, and I was in the clothes I’d worn onstage the night before, reeking of alcohol and whatever else.Our cat, Mr. Sly, was also watching me from the front window. He seemed to be saying, “Man, you really blew it this time.”This wasn’t my first time rolling in late. Cindy and I had different schedules. I’d sleep in the morning and get up around three or four in the afternoon. Then I’d hit the gym and wait for Cindy, who got home around 5:30.
