Tired to the power of...

Where I'm supposed to be in bed. Where I'm supposed to be sleeping , dreaming. Or maybe waking up.
Where I am is at six o'clock in the morning, sitting in a new car, the smell of formaldahyde wafting up my nose. Do you know, formaldahyde is what they store dead foetuses and frogs and hearts and whatnot in, in lab jars. New car smell. New carpet smell. Biology Lab smell. Smells of clean cut death. And it's toxic.
Jump to me being too damn dramatic, Jesus I tire myself out, at six in the morning heading home from work with the sun blinding me. And I don't know which is worse. No really. At this point I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore. Give me a clue.
What I need to do is to stop overthinking things. What I need to do is to stop being disappointed. Living too much in your own head and the side effect you get is, you're let down. Because nothing is as good as you can imagine it.
What I need to do is stop living off of coffee and cigarettes. Running on fumes.
What I need to do is do something so absurd and surreal to give me a break from all this normalcy.
Give me a break.