By Jora Zaidi
As I opened my laptop to scribble away in Pages, I sat my coffee on the bed beside me; mind you, it has a memory foam mattress topper. As I quietly whispered to the cup, “Please stay,” I felt like that one infomercial, where the couple giddily jumps on their mattress with a glass of wine in the center, to test its firmness; was that a gimmick?
My thoughts momentarily wondered to Yelp. With silent prayers, I continued to type as my coffee rested beside me, teasing at the opportunity to spill and wreak havoc. Then, I felt the bittersweet irony that rested between the coffee and I, and how I oddly felt like a full cup of hot java, ready to spill.
Does one typically feel like coffee, and how commonly is the word “java” still used? Nineties flashbacks of Seattle Kurt Cobain admirers come into play.
Mind you, I have felt overwhelmed with school, certain financial responsibilities, social commitments, or for a lack of a better term, life. All of these pressures have boiled to the point where I feel like a teetering cup of smoldering coffee. For some odd reason, I have not been able to get a handle on it (all puns are intended). Then, I looked back at the now empty cup of coffee; it’s finished.
What had recently consumed me with worries is now done, and with that, I will ease into the day knowing that mornings are for coffee and contemplation, and life should be handled the same; not everything can be in our control.
You are always so worth loving, Jora