Early this morning while draggng myself awake, the glass coffee carafe slipped in my hands, hit the faucet, and shattered. There was hardly any sound to it at all -- just a dull click before shards started hitting the sink.
For a while all I could do was stand there and look at the broken pieces.
But here's the really strange thing -- once my morning goal had changed from waking up to finding a nearby gas station with fresh coffee to drink -- I was suddenly moving faster, wasting less time, and getting myself in gear. It was like my absolute need for caffeine gave me more energy and motivation than the drug itself ever would have.
The addiction more important than the fix?
The desire more pressing that the acheivement?
The dreams better than the coming true?
What's more, I suddenly found myself noticing everything. Maybe it was the broken routine, or maybe it was the lack of coffee -- I don't know. But whatever the cause, it was like I was actually seeing the world around me instead of just locking in on the lines in the middle of the road.
Fuel prices are insane. People who work at gas stations never seem to smile. Half the toys on the "novelty" shelf are actually good luck troll cigarette lighters with day-glo Don King hair. The German hair metal band Krokus apparently has a greatest hits album out that I can buy for just $5.99. There's a guy in a business suit buying a six pack of beer.
It's 7:45 a.m.
In front of me are 14 different flavors of coffee, each in it's own glass pitcher on it's own individual hot plate. The one marked "regular" is, of course, empty.
After mulling it over for a minute, I picked the one called "French Roast."
I took a quick sip, put the plastic cover on the cup, and paid the lady.
After that -- I don't really remember all that much.
... Weird, eh?
For a while all I could do was stand there and look at the broken pieces.
But here's the really strange thing -- once my morning goal had changed from waking up to finding a nearby gas station with fresh coffee to drink -- I was suddenly moving faster, wasting less time, and getting myself in gear. It was like my absolute need for caffeine gave me more energy and motivation than the drug itself ever would have.
The addiction more important than the fix?
The desire more pressing that the acheivement?
The dreams better than the coming true?
What's more, I suddenly found myself noticing everything. Maybe it was the broken routine, or maybe it was the lack of coffee -- I don't know. But whatever the cause, it was like I was actually seeing the world around me instead of just locking in on the lines in the middle of the road.
Fuel prices are insane. People who work at gas stations never seem to smile. Half the toys on the "novelty" shelf are actually good luck troll cigarette lighters with day-glo Don King hair. The German hair metal band Krokus apparently has a greatest hits album out that I can buy for just $5.99. There's a guy in a business suit buying a six pack of beer.
It's 7:45 a.m.
In front of me are 14 different flavors of coffee, each in it's own glass pitcher on it's own individual hot plate. The one marked "regular" is, of course, empty.
After mulling it over for a minute, I picked the one called "French Roast."
I took a quick sip, put the plastic cover on the cup, and paid the lady.
After that -- I don't really remember all that much.
... Weird, eh?