Fell asleep in my clothes
again
Brain powered down faster than a replicant at the end of it’s time span
And I was unable to stop it
I think I should see someone about it
How do I have nothing left at the end of the day
To the extent
That I have literally nothing left.This does not bode well for mechanics
If I’m this tired after a day of lifting coffeepots
How will I feel after a day
Of lifting engine components that can hold enough coffee
For most of the province.

Perhaps it’s more of an emotional burden I carry,
That I struggle with,
Am ecstatic to put down
At 5 o’clock.
Talking to people all day long,
Even the ones I like to speak with
Leaves me with nothing to say
And my communication robot demands
A shift into standby.
If this is the case,
The solution feels very much like mechanics.
Conversing with robots is only taxing
When they don’t do what one wants them to do.
But that is nearly always user error.
As long as one speaks their language
Robots always do as they’re told.
It’s kind of their thing.
Their most appreciable quality, to be sure.

But perhaps it’s my health.
This blood, sluggish and tired
Can only move through a system at a speed
Dictated by the nutrients I’ve fed it with
How many nutrients in a cookie?
Even one with extra chocolate chips?
Why is is so difficult to take the time to make sure I’m fed
Why am I so hesitant to take care of myself
When by the descriptors of my right now job
I’m in a position to enable vitality, energy, yum?
In all but myself, it would seem.
It’s not easy being a delacto, deglutei, unsoy’d vegeprefarian
In a landscape permeated by the dust of wheat flour,
a myriad of ways to spell dairy ingredients,
the insidious presence of soy in everything
(In tea? Earl grey tea? Seriously Lipton? What the hell?)
And the consumption of creature flesh of so culturally accepted
It is nearly blasphemic to turn down bacon.

But however the sleepy after work in the tight bindings of the clothes I wore all day has manifested
Waking suddenly and writing the first thing that comes out
Likely makes for some odd poetry,
Even if it’s far removed
From a proper haiku.

Although..

Perhaps something else,
It’s been a while since I checked
My thyroid status.