When I wake up, I try to remember how I slept.
Did I wake up at 2am? 3am? The neighbors, I’m not sure if it was upstairs or next door, took a shower at 11:30pm. I remember that I couldn’t fall asleep. It feels too cold to wear shorts in the apartment this morning. I wonder how much my piss weighs. I weigh 176.9… 176.9 176.9 176.9 176.9 176.9. The floor is a bit cold. I should probably get some area rugs. 175.2 – over a pound of piss. Rugs are a pain to move and take up odd space in a moving van. Do other people think this way? Do they hold off on buying things because they think about their eventual disposal? I had a girlfriend who had nice area rugs. They seemed to fit in with the decor of her place. I’d have to get a pretty big rug to fit under the entire bed and still have enough peeking out to step on. She’s moved a few times. I wonder if she still has the rugs. Did she think about keeping them or getting rid of them before she bought them? Was it a shrug – ehhh, it’s only a couple hundred bucks? Am I cheap if I don’t shrug that off? How do other people approach the most inconsequential of problems – like what’s really going on in their head? I want the narration, the step by step. Where are their hesitations? Do we ever get to know how other people think? I should at least get a rug for the living room. When I get a job, I will. My natural wake up time seems to be around 7 am. I think that was the wake-up time for the girlfriend with the rugs. I used to have to wake up at 5 when we dated because I spent weeknights at her place and had a 40-minute drive home in the morning. What’s life going to be like when I need to get up earlier every day? I’m not sure I want to go back to 5 am. What won’t I be doing in the morning if I get up at 7 and have to get ready right away? That doesn’t leave any time to read, write, or exercise. I’m gonna have to get better at doing some things at night. Or maybe I just do fewer things. I like the slight tug of resistance from the foil on the new can of coffee. I like the way the seal pleasantly gives way and the foil peels back. It reminds me of gently pulling a single blade of grass out of a lawn. I think that’s the biggest difference between name-brand and store-brand foods: packaging. This is name-brand coffee. There must have been some static electricity thing going on that scattered a few grounds when I peeled back the foil. I’m pretty sure the glue used to seal the peanut butter jar or the machine that does the sealing isn’t as good at the store-brand factory as it is at the name-brand factory. (It’s probably the same factory). Store-brand jars are harder to open. Their paper seals tear off in little pieces as the glue holds on at the edges for dear life. I never did hear back from that woman I texted last night. I’m guessing we won’t be meeting up again. Why are these things so awkward? So many conversations just drop. The frozen waffle looks thinner. Like the middle of it looks like they’re using less batter. I can almost see through it. Probably shrinkflation. These strawberries took a turn quickly. Uggh, that one can’t be saved. Is this what life is about? The minutiae in our heads? Trying to find easy-open jars, wondering how Big Waffle is scamming us, and avoiding getting new things because they’re only temporary, maybe not worth the cost, and might be difficult to dispose of? Did I just come up with a metaphor for why I’m not overly excited about dating? Because people are difficult to open, thin on substance, sometimes turn quickly, and might be a pain to get rid of? I can’t believe I forgot to pour my coffee.