The Good Life

Eight ten.

Feeling hopeful about my sobriety right now, and I think my life has a lot of potential. I’ll probably skip the caffeine this morning. It’s not something I have to have; I’m not addicted to it. What I like about Snapple tea is really the social trip to the store every morning, but today I have an appointment at the bank. At nine thirty I’ll head out to River Road, anticipating good things. The sun is out again. The high temperature will be 88 degrees. My mind is not so much on music lately, but rather just the process of living— even the good life. Ethics, or moral philosophy, is a very powerful branch of Western philosophy, and the evolution of it can be quite fascinating… Suddenly my consciousness feels like a garage sale, a menagerie of odds and ends, or flotsam caught up in a tornado. But there’s no storm in here. It is sepulchral quiet in the house. I feel tired from the heat yesterday. My eyelids are heavy and droopy with fatigue.

Eleven ten. The appointment at the bank went just okay. The rep had me fill out an application for a new credit card that would give me two percent cash back on every purchase I made. He was very young and sharp witted, or maybe he’d had too much coffee this morning… And then I stopped at Grocery Outlet for a few items. I felt vaguely triggered to drink when I smelled the different scents in the air of the store; the smell of fresh food… Construction of the new high school goes on at the site on Silver Lane. I couldn’t make out what they were doing; it looked like they’d put in a lot of fresh gravel where the foundation is going to be. The traffic director as I passed her told me she was hot from standing in the sun. Closer to home, I said hi to the FedEx driver. But all in all it was kind of an anticlimactic trip to River Road, no big deal really. I was more excited yesterday when the mail brought me two new blank books for scribbling my ideas. The best journey is the one taken inside. 

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