Go Figure

Today is Sunday, February 22nd, 2009. Yesterday I found myself wondering what day it was. It's not that uncommon to lose track of the days, the weeks, the months, and end up getting lost in the present. But in that moment I must have also been thinking of how I was wanting to write more, and through the clashing of the two teams of thought I was able to tackle down the idea of starting out the day by writing what day it is each and every day... unless I don't feel like it that day and talk myself out of it.

Today is Sunday, February 22nd, 2009. I seem to have needed to write it down twice. Its a good mnemonic device.

Today is Sunday, February 22nd 2009. Third time's a charm. I have not yet started thinking about tomorrow. So far, it is still early enough that I can only think ahead into today. Tomorrow still seems a whole day away. Far enough, that when I say "Tomorrow I will eat mashed potatoes," the words echo across the hours of today. I wave at them as they leave my mouth. Maybe I will see them later. Maybe I will see them tomorrow, or the next day after that. Maybe I won't see them at all. Maybe I will find them broken into pieces. Maybe they will get attacked and I will turn a corner today and find them covered in blood and guts... mashed to bits. Maybe they met someone instead, and when I see them next, they will introduce me to their new word-friend and tell me about how they met and how happy they are together. Either way, something is going to happen today.

Maniacs in the coffee shop

Last night, I realized that I need to exercise my imagination more. So this morning, I decided to take my laptop to the coffee shop and write. There are quite a few people here with laptops already. No, actually, I never left my house, and am still in my pajamas. It’s too bad that my imagination only took me as far as a coffee shop. You see, I still have some exercising to do. It’s not that a coffee shop is a bad setting for something to happen, its just that I quickly returned to my home and the reality of myself sitting at home in my pajamas. So many things could have happened in that coffee shop this morning had I given myself the chance to stay. A person sitting near me could have been reading a book whose pages were just sheets of color. Her face glows red for a moment. She looks up and turns her head directly to me. I must have been staring. She turns the page and her face reflects a shade of green. She holds up the book to shield herself from my stare, offering up the book’s title, “Reading Color: Understanding Color Blindness.” I’m not sure why this gesture made me feel aggressive today. Instead of realizing that I had been looking at this girl long enough for her to feel uncomfortable, I wanted to pierce that book with my stare, shove my eyes right through those colored pages and stab them through the back of her head.

Deflected instead. My stare ricochets around the room, hitting an innocent bystander in the leg. Who wears legwarmers anymore? Apparently this guy. He’s waiting for his morning coffee, standing patiently by the counter next to the sugar looking like a maniac… a maniac on the floor. Waiting like he has never waited for his coffee before.