Eyes blinked open slowly. The sight of an aged drop-tile ceiling came in to focus and Joel began to slowly remember who he was and how he got in this place. He had been sleeping deeply and the first gasps of consciousness made him feel like he’d just come back from another planet. Groggy, he huffed and glanced around the dark room. 

He remembered that his garage had once been some sort of welding shop. He’d kept the office area below him largely intact, but the upstairs had been a conference room combined with two other small offices. A few years ago he’d decided to consolidate and make the area a living space. The project was still unfinished and the sparse furniture in his “living room” continued to look out of place. A leather sofa, a coffee table with a small rug underneath and a few other items sat on standard issue office white, speckled tile. He remembered the welding dust that had been all over [i]literally[/i] everything when he'd first moved into the building. What a pain it had been to clean up. His arm clamored over to the coffee table searching for his phone.

[i]11:14…[/i]

[i]Good Lord…[/i] He thought. He hadn’t woken once during the night. There was a mug on the table reminding him he’d drank some chamomile tea before  dozing on the couch. The stuff was better than any other sleep aid and at least for him tended to produce the absolute wildest dreams. Unfortunately he couldn’t recall anything from the previous night and groaned as he staggered up to a sitting position still drunk with sleep.  He looked dead ahead momentarily at the other side of the shop as his body began to get its bearings back. The room was bordered by glass panes that allowed the old ownership to observe the workings of the floor from an elevated perch. Joel glanced over in the quiet below as he shuffled to the bathroom. 

There were three cars in various states of disassembly on the floor and one Seadoo watercraft wedged in on its trailer. The owner was a regular customer and had just left it with him to “figure out”. Joel grinned a little. He had no idea how to fix it and hadn’t even touched it yet. In his clean clothes, he slinked between the trailer and the wall and headed for the door thinking he might still make a brunch of sorts. His stomach groaned in impatience. He remembered neglecting to hit the grocery shop as well and after his shower found he still had nothing remotely suitable for a breakfast. However, the girl that worked the bar at Cornerstone was a pretty decent cook and didn't mind experimenting with various dishes. The stroll down the block would at least be refreshing. He'd eat and [i]then[/i] decide what to do with the rest of the day on a full stomach.