Mornings

In anticipation of my day off, I began picturing myself lying out by the pool, East of Eden in my hands and a beer by my side. Alas. I woke up to a sky that looked like it was about to burst at the seams with rain. Drat. The next ten minutes were spent between a rock and a hard place, desperately wanting coffee and knowing my only coffee cup was out in the car. “just do it!” I told myself, which was followed not by the sound of a pit pat, but a downpour.
I adjusted my perception of the day from sunny sunbathing to something more cozy involving some sort of hot drink. “I’ll make eggs,” I thought. Ten minutes later I am yanking the oven away from the wall with all my might (which isn’t much might, mind you) to retrieve the egg yolk that was collecting into a pool on the tile. Honestly, only I could line the mixing bowl right on the line between counter and stove, crack the egg with too much might (ironic eh?) and have it slide, not into the bowl, but down its side, vamoosing right into the crack.
However, I must say that with a little help from Booker T and thr M G’s “green onions,” (the song from the sandlot bike stad off scene) I am in a fantastic mood. I anticipate a day of something rewarding, like sitting in a Starbucks with coffee someone else made, attempting to draw but mostly people watching. Or reading East of Eden in a more local coffee shop I am determined to find. And Daylight Donuts doesnt count, google maps. cup was out in the car. “just do it!” I told myself, which was followed not by the sound of a pit pat, but a downpour.
I adjusted my perception of the day from sunny sunbathing to something more cozy involving some sort of hot drink. “I’ll make eggs,” I thought. Ten minutes later I am yanking the oven away from the wall with all my might (which isn’t much might, mind you) to retrieve the egg yolk that was collecting into a pool on the tile. Honestly, only I could line the mixing bowl right on the line between counter and stove, crack the egg with too much might (ironic eh?) and have it slide, not into the bowl, but down its side, vamoosing right into the crack.
However, I must say that with a little help from Booker T and thr M G’s “green onions,” (the song from the sandlot bike stad off scene) I am in a fantastic mood. I anticipate a day of something rewarding, like sitting in a Starbucks with coffee someone else made, attempting to draw but mostly people watching. Or reading East of Eden in a more local coffee shop I am determined to find. And Daylight Donuts doesnt count, google maps.
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