Listen to my muscle memory

It’s that piece, that place, that thing that gnaws at you while you’re having that innocent conversation with that older lady at work meanwhile your mind is working away, toiling at being what it needs to be, yearns to be, yes, yes, I hear you, I’m even speaking in your conversation, though I’m really not paying attention and then I start to fade aawy and I’m worried she knows I’m not paying attention so I tune back in just for a second and come up with an intelligent retort or whatever but it’s enough and she goes off on another tangent about what I don’t understand though I DO understand you see I do I do I do and that’s the least of all here listen to my muscle memory 46 and 2 and then I snap back in and begin again into the converation.

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