Yesterday, I promised myself I'd go to bed early. Really.
I've been telling myself that for days, but always wound pushing midnight with friends in the lobby, the lounge or at the pool. Yesterday, I meant it. Really.
I left the jam session at nine while the band was still cooking. Came upstairs, posted here a bit and decided to hit the rack. But a quiet voice said, "Things are probably winding down in the bar. Why not go say goodnight?"
Saying goodnight turned into saying "yes" to a few tunes with the band. Just a few, Frank.
A few tunes turned into an entire set. Finally said goodnight and came upstairs to hit the rack.
Which I was ready to do, except--well, CZ was downstairs, I'd hardly seen him since he arrived. Chet had showed up, too, and I'd heard that John Derby was playing bass.
So there it was, eleven at night--well, slightly after eleven, so no more of this running back to the lounge. I'd made a promise to myself: I was going to bed early.
Really I was.
No comments:
Post a Comment