I'm so sleepy again you will have to hook me via a concentric catheter in the external carotid artery to an intravenous drip of 20% Red Bull, 25% Monster, 20% Rockstar, 25% Coffee, 10% Diet Coke. My schedule is still out of whack and I'm dog-tired.
Anyhoo, I still can't fathom why for days on end, I would pay the coffee pot a visit on my 3pm breaks when I know that nobody makes coffee at that hour anymore. And each time, the same repertoire of motions vis-a-vis feelings transpire: I waddle dazedly to the lunchroom bearing my prized coffee mug that contains nothing but a faint brown stain of coffee that dried up on a straight line as I desperately hang on to the last drops of morning fix with my mouth wide open and head tilted back so far I could fall off my chair, then I aim the mug under the spout of the thermos as a drought-victim would upon seeing an artesian well for the first time in 50 years, I press on the pump with so much faith that never seem to remember days and days of no coffee in the coffee pot at 3 o'clock. Then the spout manages to cough up air (or bubbles on good days) that so much sounds like but is definitely less productive than a person with a mild case of bronchitis. Then I turn around, embarassed for the almost imbecile show of hopefulness, and head for the water dispenser to get some cold water as an after-thought. And to dilute what remains of the stain.
Last week, as I was walking back to my desk, Anna (my co-worker inhabiting the cubicle next to the lunchroom) blurted out, "And what makes you think there's coffee at 3pm?" She heard the thermos cough. Several times. I don't know. Perhaps, I'm stupid that way. I'm stubborn that way. I persist and hope and anticipate change despite repeating disappointments. I know I can send Pavlov turning in his grave.
Today, at 3pm, I marched into the lunch room again but lo and behold, this time I emerged triumphant, with a mug full of coffee (not as hot but warm enough to tide me over). No one finished the morning fix! I showed my prize to Anna, she was on the phone but she gave me a smile and a thumbs-up sign. You see, I'm very trusting and forgiving that way. I don't lose hope on anything. Or in most (I didn't say all) cases, anyone. I believe in the innate cosmic goodness in things, events and people as long as we give them a chance (even if you need to turn them inside out, or shake, twist and squeeze...there's gotta be something!) You see, I don't give up easily. You see, you'll never know when you're going to hit the jackpot.
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