Pinegrove regale us with the sleepiest Tales From The City we’ve been given to date.

I’ve always been a bit of a wired sleeper. You know, a nap taker. A true snoozer, a stay up later and later sort of guy…all of the deviant/ indulgent sleep habits. Basically I eat and sleep when I want to, and don’t bother with any of that daylight normativity stuff. So I figured when planning for my trip to the UK this early June that no preparation was necessary, that since I had no circadian rhythm anyway it wouldn’t be so hard to just adopt a new one. Well.

The flight over was a red-eye overnighter, which I thought, “cool, I’ll do my best to drink enough beer before the flight to feel snoozy (a prudent, measured strategy) — then I’ll sleep some, flight’ll feel short, boom, wake up and I’m there and ready to take on the day!”

So I guess this story properly starts at 9:30am, Greenwich Mean Time, haven’t slept a true wink since the night prior, zoned and babbling to no one in the arrivals district of Heathrow airport. My new friend Tom picks me up and we go on a train to the first stop. Tom is extremely friendly and helpful and my eyes feel like tumbleweed. We arrive eventually in Kingston for the show at Banquet which was surprisingly good and, of course surreal, given everything.

“I dream I’m rafting my bed through the Thames. I sleep forever.”

After the show we get a train back to London proper where I fall asleep quickly (and on new pal Tom’s shoulder?). We stop to get a beer (or two) with the rest of our crew, where despite my best efforts I nod off a little at the table, but nothing major. Grab a train toward what’s allegedly the best curry spot this side of Delhi, telling myself I will absolutely not fall asleep this time. Am woken up at our stop and ushered out by Tom who is by this point my Best Friend. The curry was as good as advertised! A few beers and a spicy dish and all of a sudden I am very awake! I feel like partying and exploring and adventuring around this new beautiful and unusual place! I stay up till 5am.

I wake up at 8am : (

Why am I awake? I do the math. Okay yeah, I guess it’s 1pm EST I drearily figure. (?? um, right) After three hours of blasting through my data plan into red-eyed oblivion, I am startled awake at 1pm and late for the thing I had planned at NME! We hustle effectively and make it on time. Cruising on the adrenaline of it and I’m back to a reasonable amplitude! I wanna eat food and drink beer! I wanna see everything. We walk around a lot which is, of course, kind of a lot but still really nice and cool. I look at the sun and as we enter the station for the Underground I wonder why there is apparently these days no correlation whatsoever between what time it is and if I’m tired or not. Then I wake up on the train wondering where I am and happy to see my best friend Tom sitting next to me, smiling and patting my head, tucking me in. It feels so lucky and luxurious that there’s such a lush bed in the middle of this train, seems strange though who am I to question foreign customs? The train lifts off and suddenly breaks into the night sky and over the Atlantic. Over Iceland, then Greenland and Newfoundland, then Tom is gone and I am floating back over the U.S. of A drifting into the fog of it and rumbling closer and then finally rumbling there, texturally, deeply in my own bed. I dream I’m rafting my bed through the Thames. I sleep forever.

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