Santa will be bringing me a new coffee maker, a gift from Rachel and Rhys. I'll never suffer from sleepiness again. This is the intravenous version, sold only to hospitals. Rachel had to forge a purchase order and license. No more drinking pre-ground coffee for me and my guests. It is a nice one, medical grade, born sterile, filtered water and features that I'll never use, probably never even know about. That one bag of freshly ground beans from a few weeks ago changed things for me. The taste was simply better.
That is the thing about taste, if you seek to refine it then it will cure you of previous joys.
My visiting friend, April, and I also discovered a Cabernet that we greatly enjoyed:
$60 a bottle. A price that I would gladly pay again today, and tomorrow, but would maybe start to question my judgement after that. It is the nature of pleasures, they are both progressive and degenerative.
The boy and I awoke to the darkness, the rain. I tried to convince him that it was not yet time to awake, that it was still dark, though he knew much better. His body clock is of the Swiss kind, mine more of a bent sundial, rusting in the rain.
We sit here now and watch Star Wars. I wish to go to the gym, to fight against time in whatever modest ways that I can, feeling like the R2 unit that has the "bad motivator."
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