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Mostly Minutiae No. 6

Distressed, I awakened a little before
five; got up to face the cool morning
before the dawn.

O my goodness, the first stanza
sounds like a BBC drama. That’s it!

I dreamt about the drama we watched
last night before bed. Innocent enough
on the screen; a killer in my dreams.

I didn’t want to disturb her, so I
grabbed my heavy robe in the dark.
(Not a problem, I always hang it in
the same spot.)

I keep a spare toothbrush and bottle
of eye drops in the guest bathroom.
(You guessed it. Not the first time
for a “can’t sleep” scenario.)

Desk lamp on. Door closed. Laptop
on. Journal open. I typed the time
and one line of text only to hear her
in the kitchen.

Turns out, she didn’t sleep well
either and for the same reason.
The dumb drama.

She got to the coffee pot first.
I cut our cheese, her toast in,
and we were munching and
crunching in no time.

We analyzed it. Why such a
disturbing sleep over an award
winning drama? No idea. Too
early to think. Need more coffee.

We let the drama go. Another cup
of coffee cured the “not enough
sleep” headache. We changed

I mentioned, “It is a different
season of my life. Time to let
LinkedIn go,” Just a nod, no
comment. (Expected when I
talk “tech.”)

I thought to myself, “No point.
I haven’t been thirty-something for
forty years. Network, schmetwork,
who cares!”

I’m reading a mega spiritual
self-help book. About to finish the
first chapter. I thought I’d read it
first thing after breakfast for a
change in routine.

I went from dismal to depressed.
I hate it when my life mirrors both
the male and female examples in
a self-help book.

She looked lovely today. She drove
to work; I walked down the hall to
my desk. (The coffee was working
its magic. Dismal had to go. Good
is on the way.)

Then, as I slugged my way through
an openSUSE forum. Christmas
came early. I found the answer.

In moments, WiFi printing was up
and running. Nothing to print but
the test page; well, it is up.

I wonder what we’ll watch tonight.
Do we dare watch episode five?

What on earth makes me think I
can be entertained by other
people’s dysfunction?

(We do it all the time.) Back for
more? We’ll see. I have enough
trouble with my own issues!

(And, I just closed my LinkedIn

Categories: Poetry

Tagged as:


Poet, Writer, US Army (Retired)

I dreamed of writing when I was a youngster. The love of books and writing may have helped to dull the pain of severe sexual abuse as I was sexually abused by two men at my father’s place of work from age 8 to 12 or so. I learned about this for the first time when I was 50 years old. So, as a boy, reading was the only place I had to go to. My fantasy world was better and safer than my real world. I loved reading and writing.
Reading books and writing poetry are a joy to me still and are an important part of my life. (See my About Me page on my blog for the complete profile.)

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