the call of the freeway

i woke up at 4:30 this morning in a terrible mood; big mike was coughing like a lunatic in the kitchen and our house is small and wooden so the sound reverberated through to me, i was disgusted in my sleep, and nico was clawing away at my books which has always woken me up, in rage, in seconds. it was a bad start, a bad sleep, the works. so i make a butt load of coffee, your equivalent of 9 of your baby cups, gave michael a birthday card that read this, tell me if its mean, "birthday, or mild birthday, sans happy because you should do chores and homework and read more. 15 is ok, but 21 is better. be objective" then there was a feb. 11 horoscope thingie that said he had luxuries handed to him and they pile up and if he learned to think inwardly instead of always outwardly he might be a more complete person. i'm just being realistic here. someone has to tell him the truth.
anyway. i was sitting here wondering if i should keep reading or look something up on the internet when i heard the freeway, far away, and looked at the window, which was closed, but had golden light buzzing through the slats in the white wooden blinds. it was a nice effect, one that reminded me of seeing that light and going outside to be deceived but enjoying the morning anyway. i've always been a fan of the morning. and then going to school or walking to the bus past the 7-11, past the poorer people's houses, across the cul de sac from the train tracks. they didnt serve as a divide. anaheim is not romantic. those people were just as bad off as these. at school, on the huge grassy feild before class with the sparse metal playground and the other huge feild, the middle school feild (separated by a small chainlink fence, i never went there, but i thought about that school a lot during 1st and 2nd and 3rd grade) it felt like being in the country, so much open nature, and thats when i heard the freeway, sometimes, if the sky was blue, and those were my favorite days. but so, i was reminded and yesterday i read a book with the intention of walking to turn it in today, so thats where my paragraph's headed, to the library, this morning, the closed library, to turn in a book i read that i will forget next week. it will be 8:00 in ten minutes. i think temecula is too pretty and too suburban to fully be enjoyed for the morning. anaheim was gross and great and fontana was gross.