I wasn’t exactly sure how long I was musing an’ all, but I know it ended around noon, because that’s when Alex usually wakes up and starts blaring music as a part of his morning routine.

I felt my joints creak from not using them to the tunes of Queens of the Stone Age and I went down stairs to the kitchen to make myself a breakfast.

My parents, when they were still alive, stopped cooking for me when I was twelve. When I asked them if they could throw somethin’ in for me, they’d jokingly say: “You’re almost a teenager, you can figure it out.” and I did.

I decided I was in the mood for a breakfast burrito.

In about a half an hour, I had all the stuff wrapped in a tortilla and out the door towards that gas station that Young works at with Greg right behind me. The manager is a crotchety old bag who yells at us for loitering all the time, but he’s blind as a bat. So we swipe stuff from there all the time.

“I can go with the flow.” I sang along with the music I could still hear blaring from the house.