Beginning to write and suddenly, I have a craving.

I shouldn’t be surprised. I was reading some of yesterday’s work to begin today. Yesterday, I wrote:

Pram was hungry.

He almost laughed before considering his hunger more pragmatically. Thinking back to his last meal, he remembered that big-ass double cheeseburger he’d enjoyed from the compiler before this fiasco began.

Last meal was an ugly phrase selection, given the situation. Perhaps his mind had deliberately, slyly inserted it. His mind often seemed to sabotage him. That would be a perfect last meal – a double cheeseburger with sharp Cheddar cheese, a toasted sesame seed bun, onions, pickles, Russian dressing, ketchup and spicy yellow mustard. Add a vanilla milkshake and fried onion rings, hot and salted, and he’d enjoy his perfect last meal.

You’d think, then, that my craving would center around Pram’s meal. But no, I wanted pie. If not pie – blueberry or cheery – a turnover would do. But then, no! Crashing through my window of desire came a DOUGHNUT.

Oh, yeah, a doughnut, like a maple log, like the ones we used to buy at the Krispy Kreme on Leghorn in Mountain View. Yes, and that makes sense, because this FEELS LIKE FRIDAY.

Military or civilian, we always had doughnuts on Friday when I worked in California. I feel like I should honor that tradition.

Even if today is Thursday.

Now, though, I’m remembering the hot fried onion rings we used to buy in Osan City outside of Osan Air Base in Korea. Hot, salted onion rings and a cold beer.

Oh, boy. I need help.

Anyday and Everyday

Everyday has a feel. Lot of that feel is conditioned into us by work and school. It’s hard to shed the feel.

Today is Thursday but feels like Friday. I could blame it on my friends. Fifteen of us met last night and hoisted a few beers. I enjoyed the Caldera Brewing Pilot Rock Porter, a most excellent beverage. I had two point five points so I don’t believe that’s the problem with today.

I worked and exercised, of course. Walked six miles, which is about my average, so no great shakes there. Had roasted veggie pizza for dinner. I don’t think that’s the problem nor why today feels like Friday.

No, I believe my problem resides with less than sufficient sleep. The Fitbit reports I had less than six and a half hours. For that, I blame the cats.

The four of them seemed very very. I don’t know what – very very catish? They ate their food and wanted more. They were inside and wanted out. Then, OMG, it’s cold outside, LET ME IN! Hearing the others, they would present a need to go investigate to see what HE’s up to without knowing who HE is. The four are male cats, felines who wandered in from the streets and declared our house is their house. Each has one issue or another.

My wife claims a big problem is that they’re all males, full of themselves and territorial. “It would be different if one of them was a female. Cats are matriarchal. A female would create some order.”

She could be right but I’m not getting a fifth cat to prove it. There is a fifth, a female. Pepper lives next door but loves our front porch and hangs out there about twelve hours out of a twenty-four hour period. She doesn’t seem to be establishing any order. Her only thought to order is, “Hey, hey, hey, give me something to eat. Hey, hey.” And I do because cats have established mind control over me.

So it feels like Friday because I feel tired. I’m ready for the weekend even though the weekend has no concrete meaning for me. It’s just Saturday after Friday, and Sunday after Saturday, and the day before Monday. Other than the spelling of the days and the hours of some businesses, they’re all Anyday and Everyday.

Okay, rant over. Got my mocha. Tastes awesome. Another sip or two and I’ll be ready to write like crazy, at least one more time. I’ll see where the story takes me.

I just realized that in the space of my future, there are no days of the week. It’s all Anyday and Everyday.

Imagine that.

Lost Dream

I held the dream in my mind when I stirred, rising half-awake to see what cat scratched where for what. Full and rich, the dream clung to me like deep mountain fog. I mused over its scenes and meanings as I returned to bed.

Now there are only shards of memories. It was about my wife and I. I was appointed a special position. Something to do with colors and helping people find their roles. Finding her for her, I discovered she was a prophet.

But that’s all that the shards come together to explain. The other fragments about buttons are pieces without meanings. Of them, I only remember that the buttons were red, green, yellow and blue, and that they were almost as large as me.

I remembered I was very happy, excited and pleased.

I wish I could remember more.

Today’s Theme Music

I’m a big fan of The Weeknd. I’ve already done one or two of his songs as my daily theme music, with ‘In the Night’ coming to mind. What can I say? His lyrics and melody stay in my stream as I walk about.

I’m not alone. This song, ‘Can’t Feel My Face’, came out in 2015. It was nominated for a few awards and Rolling Stone Magazine named it their top song for that year. As others have noted, his style mixes unusual lyrics with a soft, smooth delivery that is somewhat Michael Jackson-esque. Here it is, ‘Can’t Feel My Face’.


Catchair: the act of stealing another’s seat when they vacate it. Example: “My sister catchaired the recliner when I got up to get another beer.”

The origins are believed to reside with the observation that cats will often take people’s chairs as soon as the chair is vacated, and refuse to give it up.

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