My phone was blinking with a text message. In the message was a joke. Not a very funny joke, really. But it’s the effort that is gladly and pitiably noted. Then a few more messages, and a phone call from Mum. Shower, and a coffee, with time left for some breakfast.
More texts.
C: Today is starting out as a good one! Still meeting at 1?
Between classes, I made a one hour stop off at my newest (version of the same old) caffeinated-watering hole. What has now become something of a weekly tradition has proven to be the only remedy for my typical case of the Monday's. However, today I didn't have them. Missing one of the usual suspects, just the two of us talked, and talked, and were mindful of both time, and good manners.
Walking on the last leg of what felt like a minute-long day, I was still impressed by the calibre of my mood. You see, over the past few weeks I've been permanently stumped. Putting out nothing, and getting the same back in return. I've felt dried up, overworked and underworked, without work, and tired of working on changing it. And what else? I felt sick, homesick, and sick of feeling sick, without any real symptoms of sickness at all, and no reason to stay in bed. All out of no where, and with no end in sight.
Today, though, something's been recovered. My sinus and my conscience are both clear. I don't often read inspirational quotes, simply because I don't find them inspirational -- but as I swallowed the last of my drink, I saw this written on the side:
The Way I See It #276
Anger is contagious.
4 comments:
So I'm wondering if I can hire you to write my memoirs?
Or perhaps just some sort of written narration of my daily routines? Please?
good writing is (hopefully) also contagious.
<3
Kevin,
yes.
ah. the coffee cup speaks. always a good day when starbucks drops wisdom into your lap! i love your writing. i, too, hope this is contagious.
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