I have to remember to buy coffee

If I don't remember to buy coffee, I'll miss out on that ritual excuse to take an hour in the morning to sort my thoughts. My worries become too involved with each other and when I miss my morning sort, they produce spore-like offspring that periodically infect portions of my day.

And I hate it when that happens.

Already today I awoke to a text message from a friend, which surely I took the wrong way. I felt patronized, frustrated. Thankfully, I was busy contemplating the method of my morning brew to immediately respond. Coffee made me wise enough to pause before responding. It was, as the French say, a veritable pause-café.

This morning, my coffee with vanilla soy has an aromatic, nostalgic quality. I recall walking along 8th Avenue one sunny morning, seeking out an ice cold regular coffee from the shameful, yet addictive coffee-provider: Starbucks. But, now is not the time to discuss Starbuck's ethics, besides, that's all that is really available near 42nd Street. It also reminds me of my recent visit to Halifax where I visited one of my hardiest best friends. She is an entirely different person than she was when we were in high school, but I like this version as much. Her house was filthy and chaotic. Her strange belongings were strewn all over the floor, but no apologies were made. She was in the process of moving. No explanation was given for the silver goblet or chains in her bedroom, or the pink bunny and hatchet pattern of her bed sheets. From her, I don't need one.

What worries me, is that her health is in question. We'll find out today if things will go from iffy to worse. I need to compartmentalize this or it will synergize with all my other worries. She's in a province away from mine, but I'm psychically in her presence. I can't wait for the call to tell me that I can stop being consumed by this nervous uncertainty.

Now that I have that thought sorted, I find myself with only two sips remaining in my tea cup of coffee. I hope it's enough to get me through the sorting of a letter I received from the tax office yesterday informing me that I have ten days to provide them with more than $5000. Now, I'm not sure who they think they are dealing with, but a full-time student needs a tad more time than that to come up with a chunk like this. So it goes.

Phew! There's still enough in the French press for another cup. I'm just not sure my stomach can handle it today.