Coffee Log, Day 223


Coffee: Cafe Pajaro Extra Dark, Trader Joe’s Brand; I bought the first tin of this blend when I moved to Cary a year and two months ago. Our empty apartment – I brewed you quick and hot in the morning; I had the place to myself; nothing to keep me away from simplicity.

If September wears the vintage polka-dot dress to the party, October’s got the fitted romper. She’s less rambunctious but somehow less reserved. Of all the drinks she picks a Malbec and she sits in the corner where the lit geeks congregate (and conjugate, and…) but doesn’t talk to them. She’s there for the atmosphere – or at least that’s what you’re guessing. You’ve been watching her since 8:30, everyone has, and you’re pretty sure she hasn’t left the seat.

Finally, at last call, you get the courage to start a conversation, but there’s just a hat, gloves, chapstick where she’d been sitting. She left it. She didn’t really need these things. The host is piss-drunk and his partner’s taking care of him. You let yourself out. Outside, on the curb, you look up at the building’s still-lit windows and think about October’s wire-frames. You wish you could have gone home with her, but that leaves you feeling guilty of something deep and dark. It’s a long walk to the car. For the first time since graduation, you smoke a cigarette.

Currently Reading: Autumn, Ali Smith; Cherry, Nico Walker

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“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” – L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables


Coffee Log, Day 109


Coffee: Organic Sumatra Blend, Trader Joe’s Brand; coming back to this one, can’t remember when I had it last. 2018 has been a forgetful year.

There’s a party happening by the playground. Graduation I’m guessing, but it’s hard to tell. They set white tablecloths and brought extra chairs. A guy grilled hot dogs over charcoal and the smoke was so high you might mistake it for a pine tree. They started around 3:00 but they’re still going. I can hear them laughing. It’s a good sound.

There’s something about the summer that makes me emotional. Angry, sad, frustrated, I’m a children’s book with the better pages ripped out. Maybe it’s the heat, or maybe the humidity, or that it’s easier to feel overwhelmed when the world sticks to you.

I woke up late today. I needed the sleep. I’ve been productive but it’s hard to feel it. I’m stuck on the back deck of cruise ships, or standing under street-lit sasafras.

Their party keeps getting bigger. Thump, thump, thump go the bass notes in their voices.

urrently Reading:
Americanah, by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

The Way of Kings, Brandon Sanderson

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“I believe when life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade…and try to find someone whose life has given them vodka, and have a party.” – Ron White