It is later than yesterday; the end is near.
Not of everything, just some things. So,
I’ll start closer to the end. We just finished
watching Department Q, the third in a
series. Amazing work by Nikolaj Lie Kaas
and Fares Fares in this intense movie.
I’m just starting to breathe again! Earlier
we ventured out for lunch in between
rain storms. Chinese. We took a few
moments to decide from the lunch menu
which isn’t good on Saturdays. The waiter
had us regroup looking at a combo menu
instead. Her dish was on it; mine was not.
She went with chicken and broccoli spicy
and brown rice. I only eat brown rice if
I have to. I went with kung pao chicken.
You know, a spicy brown sauce with
onions, green peppers, water chestnuts,
and peanuts (luckily this version was light
on the peanuts). And a small wonton soup
for me. We sat at a small table for two.
Vietnam war memories still linger, so I
would have preferred to face the door,
but I rather sit in a stiff chair then a soft
bench. She faced the door. I faced the
wall and a large TV screen with no sound.
An infomercial about make-up. The screen
was so big all the models had lips the size
of my head. The food is always fresh and
good here; not that we eat out often.
The morning had an odd start. Did I hear
her first or did I feel her touch my arm first?
Not sure, as I was asleep.
“Do you want to get up?”
I could barely function. I opened one eye
and aimed it at the alarm clock I never use.
06:04 means it is really 05:56. Why does
she keep it eight minutes fast? For what?
“Why do you want to get up at six?” I turned
my head back to the ceiling in the dark.
“I want six o’clock coffee.”
“What is wrong with seven o’clock coffee?”
“Then I’d regret I missed six o’clock
How could I argue with that? I got out of
bed. The kitchen was behind from last night.
I cleaned things up to make way for six
o’clock coffee. Joe day. “O crap, it’s 06:39,”
I thought to myself, “a few minutes to grind,
ten minutes to brew. We can get a sip in
before it turns into seven o’clock coffee.”
We sat at the table and she sipped. Bagel
for me; toast for her. She smiled at me
and said, “It is six-thirty coffee, not six.”
I protested in that we were drinking it
before seven. Made before seven!
“Six-thirty coffee is better than seven,”
I smiled back. I went to sleep thinking that
Microsoft was sucking the life out of me.
So, I cleared my desk to study; put my PC
on the file cabinet and loaded openSUSE.
Writing to you in Opera as we speak.
With exception of the browser, I’m Googlefied
again. Notification drop-down still won’t work
in Chrome or Chromium. WordPress checking
it out. We needed paper towels; bought
some on the way home. And a piece of pie
in the freezer section. You need something
sweet after Chinese. Getting dark again.
Dinner won’t happen. Popcorn. Nearing the
end. (I did say that, you remember.) Nearing
the end of year I am happy to see go. Tough
year. I hope to leave some horrid memories
behind and not take them with me into the
new year. Nearing the end of this post and
the lovely writing challenge from Maja. Thank
you, my dear. The pleasure was mine.
When we believe in God, we get to decide
to believe another new day, another new
year. I’ll bring hope into the new year.
As Joyce Meyer wrote, “As children of God,
one of the privileges we have is believing the
Happy new year everyone.
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.)