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Everything is Worse at 3:00 am

Everything is worse at 3:00 am.


Every snap, piece of Velcro, shoe string, and zipper is an impossible barrier to hurdle. They stick, bind, and fight you every step of the way. These infernal contraptions come alive to defeat you. Prevent you from getting out of your wet suit, or waders, or surf top, or boots. Bring your blood to boil and fill you with rage.


I. Just. Want. To. Go. Home.


I swear, it’s the nasty, evil, biting bugs that do it. They breathe life into these modern conveniences. They conspire together to make me miserable. The worse the bugs are- especially no-see-ums- the more devious the devices of closure become. The hold me in my hot, stinking clothes, and prevent me from escaping into my vehicle. They freeze me in place, outside the comfort and escape, to be feasted upon.


The bugs- working in concert with above devices, and playing against my fatigued mind and ragged emotions- have the power to push me into such heightened levels of frustration, I think I might just cut my clothes and boots off with a knife. I think, so what if these waders cost $300, it’d be worth it. Nothing is as tempting as just tearing them to shreds.


I want them off NOW. I know the ecstasy of relief that will come from throwing them in the back seat and diving into the car. What the sweet feeling of air conditioning and the safety from the bugs will feel like. It’ll be like passing through the pearly gates into infinite nirvana. Like being with the most beautiful woman; tasting the sweetest of fruits. A paradise so rich and wonderful it’ll soothe me to my bones; erase all thought of the past and future and I will be forever content.


I just want to get the hell out of here. But this damn knot in my shoe lace will not come out.


Everything is worse at 3:00 am.