Too early – ch 13

It was early in the morning, 2:15 to be exact, I woke up. Not a groggy wake up. Not a run to the bathroom wake up either. It was a wide awake, alert wake up. It was Monday– technically – and I did not need to be at work for another four hours and forty-five minutes. My stomach growled and that is when I realized I had fallen asleep on the couch and had not eaten dinner. I looked at the grilled cheese and Fritos on my plate and pulled myself up. Grabbing the grilled cheese and shoving a quarter of it in my mouth I grabbed the control with my other hand [yes, I had mastered doing two things at once] and flipped over to news.

(Yes I deliberately did not mention what news channel I turned to. I figure if I share with you my preference that you will label me in your mind and then as the tale unravels you will reason it was because “he is a Insert word here”. It is what people do – you know. We have this need to categorize everything because supposedly it helps us understand matters better. Yes ‘supposedly’ – I don’t by that rationalization. I believe categorizing or labeling everything actually closes your mind and perception from fully being aware of everything that is going on with ‘X’ person/subject/etc. If you proceeded to attend “higher education” you are taught that this categorization is a good thing and everyone does it. If you did not pursue “higher education” you know it as stereotyping and it is a bad thing to rely on and/or practice. But I digress…”

Finishing the first half of the sandwich and a few Fritos I exchanged my warm soda for a cold one and grabbed my mini-HP. [A great tool by the way. And no, I am not a paid endorser of HP products; but I am willing to be so just contact me.] I checked my email, heard “we are coming out of the recession” and grabbed the other of the sandwich. Twelve new emails and all of them selected and dragged into the “deleted items” folder. A whopping fifteen minutes passed and my mind then resumed its anxiety cycle of what would Tess do? I decided to stop and reason with myself, hoping to bring peace to my mind and spirit.

My note on the candy box read:

For you Tess

Hoping we can go out for coffee sometime soon.

Let me know…

Okay – reason would tell me she would have to tell me face to face since she does not have my phone number, address, or email address. Well, she could write a note and have someone at the grocery store give it to me next time I was in. If she used that method of delivery it is safe to consider the answer is ‘no’. If she talked me to me directly the answer could be either ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Alright this has not helped ease my mind in the least.  I got up, got showered and dressed and left my place. I drove across town to our local IHOP for coffee and to read the newspaper. I figured in a couple hours I would be hungry again and then I would order breakfast. Have you ever been to a IHOP at 3:30 in the morning? I was surprised to see the place about half full of customers, mostly truckers. When you go in at this hour the people look half dead. The server came by and got my order for coffee and I pulled out the newspaper readying myself for a three-hour stay – at least.

As I looked at the front page my mind raced back trying to remember when the last time I purchased a newspaper to read. College? No, it was further back – back when I was a junior in high school. No wonder newspaper publishers are going out of business. It had been eight years since I purchased a paper and if you multiplied that across the population to figure out how much a decrease in readers/subscribers was – wow! I also became aware of the scent – you know what I am talking about. That welcoming, friendly smell of ink on newsprint paper. I brought the paper closer to my nose and of course that is when the server decided to bring my coffee. She gave me “the look” [nut job] and said she would stop back by to check on me. The feel of the paper in my hands was a familiar but almost forgotten feeling. But I digress…

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