The Funk

Here it is this cup of tea, lukewarm and asleep on the fold-up table on my porch. I want to study it and notice its significance in my observational perspective this very moment. The ocean crashes into the shoreline just a block east, reminding me of my adulthood, grownup responsibilities B.S. Just once I’d like to again enjoy this type of moment and soak in the little things. Too bad. I need to get up, get showered, get moving. There are things to clean, laundry to fold, and tasks to accomplish. Papers to write, grades to make, second jobs to be on time for. The waves will be there later for self-satisfaction sake. Gathering my things, I stand up and take a deep breath. Sunlight pierces my lungs, fifty degrees and rain still spongy in the air from last night’s storm. I’d give anything to be able to sit in the sand and read a book – nearly just about anything. In a few hours, I’ll be back here and this cup of tea will be a piece of insignificant history. Darkness will pillow the street and I’ll be too tired to do damn near anything except lay in bed among the soft glow of a muted television. The world will keep moving and I will have wasted another day worried about financial stability. Somehow I need to get out of this funk.