It’s time again... Time for a nice hot or cold beverage with or without caffeine, in which we commiserate or giggle over the happenings of the week.
The title was not a typo…
Why does this make me think of the old Saturday Night Live “Coffee Talk” skit?
Sorry I couldn’t find a better recording.
If we were having coffee, I would meet you at Starbucks, but not the Starbucks on 43rd, because they are the worst. It would have to be the one by the mall, or on Archer, or in the Magnolia Park Plaza. Or perhaps, we could even meet at Barnie’s on 75th Street, just for a change of pace.
Why, you ask, when I have a perfectly good Keurig, and a coffee maker with a built in grinder, and all kinds of coffee, and even some decent tea right in my own kitchen? Because the entire house looks like somebody held back-to-back frat parties inside without cleaning up in between.
Welcome to the world of a slob with teenagers. I feel like no matter how many times I clean the place, within 24 hours, we’re right back to status quo, and it’s not pretty, folks.
So, unless I know that your house is just as bad as mine, we’re meeting somewhere like Starbucks, or in some sort of diner-type restaurant for our coffee or tea. And if it’s Starbucks, I’ll probably wind up ordering Chai Tea Latte, because that’s my latest addiction there. (Tea-tea… Because “chai” means tea.)
I would probably launch into a rant about how I laid in bed awake for most of the morning, lacking the motivation to get out of bed, and then analyze why… Was it because my head and neck hurt? Lying there didn’t make it any better.
Was it because I was reading everything on Facebook to try to figure out why another one of my classmates from high school passed away yesterday? While that DOES make me sad, and does make me ponder on the fact that each year I survive a trip around the sun, I am more likely to lose people I have known… It’s natural as you get older, and I’m forty-freakin’-two years old, after all…
Then I would come to the conclusion that really, I don’t like Sundays. Sunday is a bit of a depressing day of the week. If you’re like me, you spend the day feeling like you ought to get out and do something, but not really wanting to do anything. I knew that when I did get out of bed, I would forget all of the productive things I did on Friday and Saturday and start to berate myself for not doing dishes, or whatever else I haven’t done all weekend.
Then I would think how nice it would be to drive to the beach, but decide I should wait until I get an oil change and get the brakes looked at on the van when I have a day off on Wednesday, after working my twelve hour shifts Monday and Tuesday.
Oh, and I still need to do the Power Point homework that is due Tuesday night…
Yeah, this is a fun day.
So instead, I’ll lay in bed and pretend I have the entire day ahead of me, getting out of bed so damned late that I no longer have much day left at all. I’m logical that way.
It really has been a lovely weekend, except for the thunderstorms last night. And I really DID accomplish stuff on Friday and Saturday. And I also went out with Adam last night, and met some friends, and had lovely conversations about things like music and school and politics and religion and any number of stuff that you should or should not discuss.
Well, I suppose the good thing is that the caffeine or the warmth of the drink, or the sweet cinnamon spiciness, or whatever, has a tendency to both sooth and stimulate. And for just a little while, maybe we can talk about our writing projects, or that time when we watched someone do something stupid and hilarious, or about how we used to pretend to be trolls on that footbridge that has long since been torn down…
I actually DO have a few stories trying to spin their way out of my head and onto the computer keyboard, but they are still on the rinse cycle, along with all of that laundry that has reproduced despite the fact that I washed about four loads of laundry in 36 hours…
Have a wonderful rest of your weekend.