Sunday, May 17, 2009

Sleep. Get some.

I find it pretty ironic here that I work on sleep aids. It's not that I don't like them or use them, sure, they hit the spot. But it's not like I'll be popping up in the morning and making eggs for you. Mornings suck. No amount of drug or nature is going to change that.

In fact, as coffee lovers, let's be honest. The first cup of coffee is merely functional. It's not pleasurable as much as it is like coming up for air. I need air. It gets me moving. But that first cup can't make me fly, so the attachment is more thanks or relief than joy. Apparently this is the emotion New Yorkers feel when they win the world series. Just relieved it won't be another year of pain. I wouldn't know, I'm from Baltimore and L.A. The emotions we feel about baseball are, "fucking Angelos" (Peter that is) and "fucking Manny" respectively. Though it sounds funny to say SoCal people feel emotions about baseball. Really it feels like lying. Mostly they just don't.

I'm sure I've had a few really good first morning cups. So that would generally be home-brewed, drip (like my blood shot eyes can do anything else that early), and lately Peet's with sugary creamer. Preferably cools off a few minutes. Sometimes my wife makes it. That's where the thanks feeling comes in. Like, thanks for my heroin needle dear... she's looking out for me. Even though she only drinks tea.

Today's tally, a weak and watery 2.
- resort restaurant and 7-11.

No comments:

Post a Comment