WEDNESDAY MARCH 5TH, 2008 — 4:14 a.m.
My coffee isn’t strong enough this morning.
I’m drinking in gulps, chugging it down hard and fast like a group of drunken freshman, swimming in Smirnoff on a Saturday night. I’m tired — dragging. It’s early; my sleepy time cocktail of whiskey and painkillers hasn’t run its course yet. I need more caffeine. More pep. More coffee.
I pour a fresh cup then check the news.
Staring back at me from the glow of my computer screen are her wild and crazy eyes. Her botox-perfected face projects what can only be described as a lunatic’s smile – like Jack Nicholson’s Joker on LSD and cocaine.
I believe she – It – is trying to replicate the common human emotion of happiness.
I rub my eyes, taking another sip of coffee from my chipped Castleton mug.
Apparently It won big last night. Ohio. Texas. Rhode Island. Not Vermont, though. Vermont knows better. But I don’t care right now. I need more coffee – more pep.
The roads are coated in frozen snot of the gods this morning. The drive to work will be undoubtedly treacherous. I want to call in, but won’t. This is Vermont, after all. We are some of the most versatile drivers in the States, taming roads slathered in ice, slush, snow, mud, and porcupine on a daily basis.
Meh. I still don’t wanna go to work.
Oh well. Time for another cup, I guess.