I went to Starbucks this morning for my regular cup of coffee. Iced, because although it's cold out, I've never been a big fan of hot drinks, and people make fun of me when I order coffee at “kid's temp.” I usually use the drive-thru, but the line was out into the street, so I decided I'd go ahead and park.
Inside, I say to myself, This is a perfect time for an Instagram photo! So I took one, titled it “Time for coffee!” then I realize the barista is ready to take my order. As I wait, I'm hanging out by the bar playing with Instagram—realizing that my account is still linked to my old Twitter account—and I keep hearing the barista next to me yell, “Drink!” about once every 20 seconds. The guy is fast, no doubt trying to burn through the ever-growing drive-thru line.
I thought it was funny, so I told him, “I don't have my drink yet! I can't!”
Then I did that thing that I do where I explain the joke. Not because I think he needs it explained to him, but because I love explaining things. I do miss teaching. Not teaching at the middle school level, but teaching in general. That's why I applied to work as a part-time faculty member at Tulsa Community College. I miss pedagogy, and psychoeducation during therapy sessions just doesn't fill my need. If I get to teach a class in the Spring semester, I think I might explode for joy. I'm not quite expecting it, but I'm really hoping.
I'm coming to love mornings. I don't feel at my best so early in the day, but I do feel more positive when I'm up and the sun still faces east. The day seems full of possibilities. And, when night comes, I feel tired and sleep well.
I've been combing YouTube for sleep relaxation videos, specifically guided meditations that I can do while lying in bed. They hearken back to when I was young and joined my mom in her metaphysics groups. I used to fall asleep during meditations. The leaders of an angel-worship group my mom once belonged to would say that falling asleep would prevent me from fully experiencing the visions that the angels were giving me. Now, that group is defunct. Its leader either ascended to another plane of existence or had a nervous breakdown. Who can know?
Either way, telling an overworked teenager not to sleep when you sedate him with music and calming imagery is a little like telling a dog not to lick himself. My dog'll stop, but he'll start again after a few minutes. More importantly, I felt really nice during those meditations.
Last night I found one that had me observe the space in front of my eyes. Then the soft-spoken narrator told me to clear the area and write two long sentences on a blank space with a brush. He asked me to do it again before I was done writing the first set of sentences. The rest of the meditation was more relaxing, but I wasn't a fan of how quickly the man moved from one set of instructions to the next. Ten minutes later, I was out. I don't remember a thing after that...at least until my Fitbit managed to nudge me awake at 8:05am. So the meditation did its job, but I'll keep searching for one that doesn't softly inform me that my imagery time is up before moving onto the next task.
By noon, every person at Starbucks will have been forced to drink (something/anything) some 585 times. No breaks. None of them will have had time to go to the bathroom. One of them will say, “I've had to pee for the last four hours!”
The barista who had been shouting “Drink” at the drive-thru staff followed my joke by saying, in a booming, deep voice, “I don't care! Keep drinking!”
This is a good morning.