An Eighth Shot of Espresso: Coffee and Creativity on Mum's Third Shift

Tiredness goes bone deep Moving like an ancient tree whose roots are too deeply buried.  Mind foggy like a mysterious valley everything hazy and indistinct Minutes seem like hours Hours seem like days but you push the fatigue away to do what you need to do.

He knows he can do better he knows what do do His body still needs time but he is impatient He wants to do it all now. But his legs need to relearn the steps. The look in his eyes the resolve in his face. He will get it done But it will take more than just a day Give it time but his struggle is hard to see as his mother.

Exhausted but working on the power of caffeine fumes and the willpower of motherhood. Somehow finding strength to put words on the page a song in my heart a smile on my daughter's face. Though my heart is sore and my eyes are weepy I try to go on step by tired step. The comfort of friends both near and afar helps so much and I am so grateful for you all.

Distractions can be a lifeline when life goes sideways there's a reason why panic cleaning can be a good thing for your house. But underneath it masks the anxiety that threatens  to break free and overwhelm you in real time. The need to feel useful the instinct to do something is completely understandable to keep busy and keep from thinking the worst case scenario.

A half hour soak in the tub is heaven to someone who does not have the time for self-pampering Especially in one with the jets and waves that activate at the  push of a button. My joints get spoiled I nearly fell asleep in the quiet hum and no one demands that I solve a problem right now. If only this was  not just a single indulgence extended just one time but I'll take anything to keep me sane.

He wore a nice shirt and tie dark slacks neatly hemmed and black leather shoes. Unusual for ninety seven degrees. His black Cadillac not shiny and new a little beat up looking The trunk was open with a small scatter of gardening tools and a coil of rope neatly tucked away out of view. What was this man doing in the parking lot of a Waffle House at 2 in the afternoon with these in the back of his car?

Contemplate the wisdom at the bottom of  a coffee cup Another stressful day another late night the sun comes too early Think too much forget minor details remember before they become major problems but a few still manage to slip through the cracks recall them too late. Try to be better written reminders alerts on the phone words on a white board on the refrigerator but day by day the world just slips on by.

    Quite disturbing yet in a cartoon-like way stands with its hands on its articulated hips doesn't seem threatening at all but everyone forgets the scorpion might be small but the poison sting is in its tail. 

One day she just snaps. She just leaves it all behind. No matter how comfortable a cage is still a cage It doesn't change when they say it will get better then it never does Or when they say that they will help but they never come. The most thankless the most taken-for-granted the most noble profession And when she is already gone people realize how much she did for them but not until then and not until it happens. By then the point is moot they blame everyone else but not themselves too late to help her. It's her fault she wasn't strong enough to keep smiling even when her heart exploded. 

The skies become dark not all at once but gradually so slowly that no one else sees the encroaching blackness except the one directly under ground zero The Goddess of the Storm raises her hands and smiles as the wind picks up its pace a slow gentle wind up to a brisk breeze then on to a fiery gale finally to a hurricane. Lightning the only torch Thunder becomes a roaring heat beat no one claims to see it coming nature, once soft and loving turns around and bites their faces the quiet rage hasn't lessened it had grown too strong. 

You can do a job day after day regimented with precise steps it takes a conscious effort to break free from  the rigid mindset that is has to be perfect. Cracks fracture on the surface scratch it with a file and find a rebel underneath They might have to look closer but they do not choose it. Willful ignorance quiet defiance the way you walk carry yourself produce items say your words they reflect what you truly believe in.

She wears dresses but she also wears armor underneath for protection and because it's just practical She protects the poor but she keeps an eye on the powerful because she's the champion of the downtrodden. She respects her elders but does not put them on a pedestal because everyone is fallible age does not mean wisdom She relays good news but also the bad does not sugarcoat it because that is how rot begins the hiding of truth She projects silk roses but wears steel gloves treats all on their merits because that is how it should be that is how respect is earned.

A baker's dozen twelve plus one get an extra loaf avoid a flogging Thirteen disciples the last one a traitor therefore the number cursed forever A prime number and a 'happy' number* : each digit squared approaches one. Thirteen months in a Chinese leap year equally spaced twenty eight days each Card XIII rider on a pale horse symbolizing change not always literal death. Fear of the unknown the step beyond Twelve paralyzed in uncertainty or embrace it wholeheartedly ___ Math note * A "happy number" is a number that does this: Take the square of the digits (13 is 1 and 3.So 1²=1 and 3²=9) Add those two numbers together (1+9=10) Take those digits and add them together (digits are 1 and 0. So 1²+0²=1) A 'happy number' is a number whose squares of their digits are 1 A "sad" number is a number whose square of their digits (when the whole process is over, it might take a while) doesn't equal 1. So 13 is actually a 'happy number".

Arrows go up and arrows go down Breath varies from day to day on whims beyond your control on impulses beyond your understanding. Fighting against the tidal wave may seem like a useless exercise brine chokes the life out of your lungs as you drown in a sea of mediocrity What sinks to the bottom might rot and be forgotten but it takes only one bubble a piece of debris to wash on shore. Nothing is ever completely gone the cries of the innocent still ring out the storm rages on the horizon but it never stays there forever. 

Drama where no one takes anything seriously. Plot twists: the villain is her brother's cousin's nephew's roommate. Song and dance romantic ballads and villain monologues Gasps in mock horror comas that lasts for years "I died and came back as a snail." Doomed and pining lovers the scheming socialite the loyal sidekick. All stand the test of time it all depends on how you use them.

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 I love to write no ifs, ands, or buts. Not for clout or for attention I wrote words long before  there was such thing as an algorithm. Those crafted tales in my head long before I had a pen to record them. My characters are their own  with thoughts and dreams hardships and tragedies they need a muse. Call me a medium between ideas and reality I give a voice to the silent and form to the ethereal.

Stare into the mirror Keep your mind still like a perfect pond allow no ripples of stray thought or distractions. What do you see? Nothing that can't be explained a trick of the light the mind fills in gaps interprets what it wants to imagine. Are you sure? The faces that appear that smile back at you through the portal of another world they do not exist or do they?

Sometimes happiness is found at the bottom of a coffee mug laced with bourbon or a tea cup steeped with arsenic. Sometimes happiness is found in the touch  of a loved one's hand or a forbidden whisper in the darkness of a secret rendezvous. Sometimes  happiness is found  in the laughter of your children at play or the wailing of your enemies' grief when their plans lie in ruins.

A flock of crows is called a "murder". A flock of ravens is called a "conspiracy", a "treachery" or an "unkindness".  English is weird. The raven and the crow got together for a chat two black shadows against a dying sky. "How is your murder?" asked the raven. "The same old same old nothing but arguments all the same." "And how is your conspiracy?" asked the crow. "You mean my treachery?" replied the raven. The crow cawed in grim humor: "Did you rename yourselves?" The raven laughed and answered "No, it means the same thing, you know." "Well, whatever, are they doing well?" The raven bobbed its head. "Well, enough, although Mother complains, same old, same old." After a little more chit-chat the raven and the crow go back to their families: one a murder, the other a treachery. 

That sinking realization when you understand that they don't need you anymore They're outgrown you they can survive without you When it is so gradual that it sneaks up on you but the inevitable gut punch is that while you become aware they still act the same but their actions confirm it every hour or every day.

Living authentically uplift those around you give hope to the despondent and life to the lifeless through words and deeds not just one or the other. In reality life goes in cycles dips and shallows good days and bad days floats along the tide. Not everyone can be happy and inspire everyone all the time, every time clouds at the edge still brings occasional storms The burden must be shared life cannot be a vacuum one cannot always give and everyone just take catch me when I fall.

Look over my shoulder Eyes wander peer into my soul read my words engrave them in your memory judge if they are wanting if they agree with your beliefs They may or may not Some will just scroll on by others will remember make a mark in their books hoard it for later but not to think of their meaning but to use it for their ammunition.

Optimists say a new day a new opportunity yesterday might not have been great but it's a new beginning to make life better. Pessimists say it's grey and raining you can certainly try but the effort is wasted why do you even bother you will fail in every single attempt. Realists say dreams are good but you have to be sensible the glass is not half full or half empty it is just there it's what you do with it. Cynics say it's who you know not what you know Money talks Popularity talks You can only get ahead by compromising your soul.

Step out into the sun and do not hide from who you are or what you have the potential to become. Authentic soul faithful to the truth instead of a construct that serves the purpose of those who want to keep you down. Laugh loud, sing more, wear bright colors dance in the rain wear high heels help those who need it defend those who can't do it themselves. Fight for what is right not for what is expedient For the next generations instead of short gain. This is what it means to live your truth.