Hi.
Coffee: Organic Sumatra Blend, Trader Joe’s Brand
I’m getting bored of my same-old coffee. Any suggestions? Comment me some. It’d be swell.
I worked in Pittsboro. The last time I saw the city was in 2012 shortly after my apartment was robbed. We lived in Chapel Hill. After the incident, we spent a week at her father’s house in Cary – we couldn’t bare sleeping there anymore. Day two, I had to drive back to talk to the police and take inventory. To get there, I drove through Pittsboro.
I remember thinking it was a lovely, quaint town. Back then I didn’t recognize the bookstore that has racks of Nietzsche and historical accounts of Nazis; the confederate statue pointed North. I’d thrown up all night long. My mouth still tasted like acid. I was on the way to salvage a life I’d worked hard for. I welcomed my small town drive.
I took a walk today. I remembered six years ago. I saw the statue by the courthouse. I ate at an old diner on Main and was surprised they had vegetarian options. I talked to a lot of folks today, one of them saved $700 in pennies and donated it to a church project – they built a rec center. He told me he donates all his excess now. Three years ago, his house was robbed by his nephew. Took all the cash, valuables. He said he felt sorry for the guy, but that taught him money’s best when it’s doing work.
I don’t save much, mostly because I don’t have the opportunity. I don’t give much either, unless you’re counting time. There’s a few of us watching the Northern border that are trying to make up for the toll our ancestors took.
Currently Reading:
Americanah, by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
The Way of Kings, Brandon Sanderson
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“The robb’d that smiles, steals something from the thief; He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.” – William Shakespeare, Othello
Livesay Writing 