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post-coffeean

Being tired is my excuse today. Baby was up at 4am with poison oak misery. Sitting in a soft chair that has an unfortunately straight back; straight enough to give me pain in my slouched posture. The music I hear is folksy and jazzy with a volume just loud enough to lull me to sleep.

I used to be an expert at staying awake. 24 hours driving from New Orleans to Omaha. And from Omaha to New Orleans. I hated Arkansas, beyond Memphis. So flat, so bare; needing an extra Mountain Dew. These were my pre-coffeean days. Now I am post-coffeean. It no longer serves a use for me. It does not awaken me. Coffee is a part of me that I can not get rid of. I tried for Lent, but failed horribly and behaved the same. Coffee has made me who I am, yet it makes no more sense; neither pragmatically nor epistemologically.

This chair is still maddening to my slouched posture, but I rebel against a proper position. A guy that I don’t know who has still given me the opportuity to be annoyed by him has just left; talking on his cell phone too loudly and giving answers to the wrong questions.

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About david b. clark

a husband and father || a student of philosophy, theology, history, literature, music, art, computer science

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