Coffee Log, Year 2, Day 138


Coffee: Maxwell House Master Blend, Office Coffee

I’ve got two faces. A flipped coin. Spring and winter. The dial on the faucet that goes from cold to hot. Courtney and her lover disagreeing about which oven to buy for their new house. The thin white line that takes the top of puddles lit by moonlight. I’m the Sphinx and I’m riddling myself.

It was a long day at work. Then, at home, I sat restless for a few minutes still dressed in my best threads. The house seemed to have fallen down around me. I was still in my office. Four walls, an oblong feeling from being in an interior room with glass walls. I saw myself doing all the things I should be doing tomorrow, and I tried to put them away, but I couldn’t. On the flip side, if I had to wager, I’ll spend a good portion of tomorrow looking through my work computer to neighborhood trees and sentences I need to write.

What I’m trying to say is, work/life balance isn’t easy. Or maybe it doesn’t exist at all.

With nowhere else to go, I’ll keep on spinning, flipped in the air loosely.

Currently Reading: Queen, Suzanne Crain Miller

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The stress so strong it got me weak
I’m so on, it threw me off (Yeah)

JID, 1993

Coffee Log, Year 2, Day 104


Coffee: Maxwell House Drip, Office Coffee

Playing new Doom .wads and watching old commercials, Z and I tried to approximate 1993. The only thing missing was a bit of optimism.

It rained off and on today. Sometimes, I feel like I’m turning the Coffee Log into a weather report. But that’s okay because I love talking about the weather.

I talked to a middle-aged man for two hours today about logging into things online. He couldn’t remember his password. I helped him type a new one, he couldn’t remember that either. He had a snake tattoo on his bicep and one glass eye. He couldn’t be more than twenty years older than me, but twenty years makes a difference.

I have a cousin who used to chew tobacco. He might still chew tobacco but I haven’t seen him in twenty years. He came down to visit when I was in elementary and offered to buy me a videogame or a pair of sunglasses. I picked the game over the glasses and we took turns playing before my mother had finished cooking dinner. After he handed off the controller, he’d spit the chew. Gunk in a clear water bottle. It looked like late autumn leaves.

Even though the climate’s changed, we talked about weather just the same in 1993.

Currently Reading: Queen, Suzanne Crain Miller

Support Relief for Family Suffering at the Border  – RAICES DONATION CAMPAIGN

Look at that moon. Potato weather for sure.

Thornton Wilder, Our Town