all spaced out and nowhere to flow

January 25, 2012

I am having an interesting sort of day. Firstly, I have not had coffee because apparently the stove in my new apartment is broken and it simply refuses to turn on at all, in any capacity, whatsoever. So no morning coffee. Furthermore I am myself as broke as a move across states and into an abominably deposit focused apartment (300.00 per cat. Those are some damn expensive cats, and I am considering whoring them out for Friskies commercials or something) can make a girl; so no coffeeshop coffee. This utter absence of caffeine is way more hardcore to deal with than the absence of a cigarette could ever be. Lots of days I don’t feel like smoking at all and so I don’t, and nothing untoward whatsoever happens to me. This lack of coffee though is brutal. I have the dickens of a frontal lobe headache and the rest of my brain, while technically functioning, is currently more suited to contemplations of parallel universes and the destinations of helicopters than toward say, any actual work such as the work I am supposed to be doing right this very minute.

I love helicopters. Part of me is astonished that they can leave the ground and stay away from it for any amount of time at all. They just look so fat and unwieldy. Today I missed my very own office building because I was too busy watching a helicopter land on a roof; for a second it looked like it would land on top of a bridge, I guess because it was moving so slowly and looked so indecisive, and hovered for long moments over a very apropos portion of bridge top…it would be awesome if bridges came equipped with centrally positioned heli pads. I would totally pay thirty dollars to sit on top of a bridge in a helicopter for ten minutes.

When the helicopter eventually landed, not on the bridge but on a nice predictable rooftop, I peeled my eyes off the sky and realized that I had wavered to an uncertain stop in front of the neighboring coffeeshop and all the people inside were looking at me with as much interest as I had been looking at the helicopter. I cursed my inability to buy a two dollar cup of black coffee (robbery) and turned myself officeward, attempting to look like I had been gathering vitally important information from my prolonged scrutiny of the sky, and that now I had better haul ass to collate some equally important info to support my doubtless planet saving hypotheses. I need coffee.

When I arrived at the office late and feeling slightly ridiculous, I stood in front of the elevator wall for a good thirteen seconds pushing the up button before it finally slid into my consciousness that this particular button was not working and moreover it had no intention of working any time soon. It was in fact quite dead and broken, much like my very own stove. So I stood there for a few seconds more, contemplating the very long hike up eight flights of stairs (and you can just shut up, eight flights of stairs is an awfully daunting  trek for a smoker who has not had her coffee in twenty four hours) and then of course it occurred to me that all I really needed was for the elevator to open; so I pushed the down button, and it worked, and the elevator opened, and there we were. I pushed 8 and waited, and the elevator gave a little jump and went silent all and silent still. And terrible visions of plummeting behavior or long minutes passing uneventful as I waited for salvation that was never coming, my faith in the emergency call button being sadly shaken by the betrayal of the up button, flashed through my mind and oh, how I wished for coffee. A whole hour or so in an elevator would be all right if I had only the sweet companionship of some strong black coffee. Then the elevator jumped again, and dropped a bit, and I gave a startled little squeak and the doors slid open and I was back on the first floor. Before I could make up my mind to any sort of decisive action, the doors shut again and the elevator carried me without further complaint to the eighth floor, which is a veritable relief with but one bitter drop to poison it: here I am at my desk, and I have no coffee.

I am


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