A leftover peanut butter sandwich. That’s what I thought of when the day began. What do you do with it? The kids didn’t have to be to school until 11:00 and I had to get out of the house.
By the time the time rolled around, I’d forgotten how time can do this to me.
Days off of work seem to be filled with coffee. I don’t usually drink it, but it tastes so good with solitude and music of my choosing. I choose a vanilla latte. Not too sweet, of course. The Morphine album I just bought, Tom Waits, Count Basie, some k.d. lang, Fiona Apple and a little bit of Miles Davis.
I could get used to this.
I linger carefully over our conversation. I make imaginary schedules. I know there are things I need to get done. And I ignore them, too.
You are there sometimes, sprinkling a little cinnamon into what should be solitude. But it never really is. And your flavor is welcome.