Last One In

What is this,
What is this?!

My frontal lobe
does seem amiss.

A day of telephone,
a correspondence drone.

Has numbed the mind,
oh daily grind.

The freeway awaits,
taillights and gates,

Glowing till home,
low engine groan.

Welcome mat rests below,
Palm trees sway to and fro.

Temporal then eases,
no more coughs and sneezes.

Parietal obviously next,
after a day of being vexed.

Occipital last, not least,
ending the day's synaptic feast.

What is this?
What is this?!

Some call it sleep.
Hopefully, quite deep.