Sleeping with a Caffeine Buzz and Awakening to Brilliance

I’ve taken to drinking coffee in the evenings in recent days, something I’ve scrupulously avoided in the past for fear of caffeine-induced insomnia. I cannot honestly say whether the coffee is having any effect on my sleep patterns. Even before throwing caution to the wind by drinking a cup or two of strong black French roast in the evenings, sleeping through the night was unpredictable.  Some nights, I might lay awake for hours, without the benefit of coffee; lately, I do not know whether to blame the caffeine or my racing mind for the sleepless hours.

Today, if the gods are smiling down upon me from their perches in the mountains where decency hides, an able technician will come to our house to evaluate our HVAC system, give it a seasonal exorcism, and find and correct the problem that has on a few occasions of late caused a breaker under the house to trip, turning the system off. And if the gods continue to smile throughout the day, two men and a truck from Haverty’s will arrive to exchange three glass-top tables for three wood-top tables; the gods have sneered and snarled for weeks, announcing delay after delay in this process. Today, perhaps, the master clock of all the good times will be re-set to ensure happiness and joy henceforth. Only time will tell. I do hope today will reveal brilliance and beauty more so than days past have done. Again, only time will tell. I wish time would speak a language I understand so I can know what she is saying.

I bought lounging pants yesterday. Not the sort of pants one wears when leaving the house to visit a lounge, but pants one wears about the house when comfort is one’s primary objective. I had not intended to buy lounging pants. My objective was to buy a replacement for our recently-demented indoor-outdoor thermometer that decided it would refuse to display outdoor temperatures if they fell below forty-seven degrees. Alas, none of the indoor-outdoor thermometers we saw satisfactorily excited our neurons. But the pants! They made my neurons leap and dance and sing vaguely erotic hymns in honor of joyful comfort. The pants were cheap and will not last; the pants will last long enough, though, to improve this cold and dreary winter, at least. Considering what I’ve written lately about conspicuous consumption and minimalism, I should be ashamed of myself for buying pants. I should, in atonement, swallow a packet of treble fishhooks and dive face-first into a belching volcano. ‘Should’ and ‘will’ compete for space in my brain and my mouth, along with ‘won’t’ and ‘Calliope.’ How easily my deepest convictions can be flushed into an inconsequential sea.

In today’s mail, I received an envelope from a brother. Among other things, the envelope contained two photos of me. One, which I’ve seen recently and actually have a copy of my own, is my school picture from first grade at Menger Elementary School in Corpus Christi, Texas in the 1960-1961 class. The other is a photo in which I am standing next to my father outdoors next to a car parked on a street. Both of us are looking into the camera with expressions that I can only describe as suggesting disdain for the photographer. I have no idea how old I was at the time. It could have been while I was in college, but I think it’s more likely it was post-college. I wish I knew. I’m wishing a lot lately, am I not? Yes, I am.

Day before yesterday, I bought a new pair of earrings. They are the same style and design of the pair I’ve been wearing for the past year. But the pair I’ve been wearing are showing their age; the chrome is peeling, the underlying copper shows signs of tarnish, and the sheen is long gone. The new pair, on the other hand, fairly gleams. Light cannot settle on them, they are so reflective. So, I have one very shiny earring dangling from one ear and another one, equally as shiny, sitting patiently in a drawer, awaiting its call to action. Hmm. I just described an inanimate piece of metal as having patience. That suggests my linguistic abilities are failing. I must get to word-shaman quickly! I’ll write more when I have nothing to say.

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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