“Whuh?” “WHERE IS HE?!” Really bad way to wake up: My mother shaking me violently by the shoulders and screaming in my face. “What? What’s happening? What’s going on?” “Where. Is. He?” The various components of my consciousness that go off and do their own thing when I’m asleep are still struggling to return to headquarters so that my brain can function. “Mom, whuzzuh . . . What’s going on? Where is who?” “Don’t give me that crap! Where is Shane!” “Shane? He’s not here! What are you talking about!” “Why is his goddamn car here?!” Oh, crap. The car. Right. I drove home from Josephine’s, dazed, three-fourths baffled, one quarter love-dopey, and parked in front of the house, figuring I would wake up before dawn and drive it to math class and then to work before my mom was the wiser. Fail. “I said, why is his goddamn car here?!” Lesson number one: Don’t plan tactics when you’re baffled and/or love-dopey. “What time is it?” I say, then look over at the alarm clock—“Oh, crap!”—and leap out of bed and rush out of the room and down the hall, my mom in hot pursuit.
What do You think about The Bad Decisions Playlist?
