Something’s a brewin’ and it’s not just coffee

Wake up, sunshine. It’s breakfast time. What’s on the menu? A cup of coffee blacker than a panther’s butthole on a moonless night. What’s the agenda for today? You got no idea, nothing’s coming to your brain till that sweet, caffeinated nectar graces your lips. All you know is you’ve found yourself outside in the cool morning air, Flanneled up, playing peekaboo with the rising sun. 

After a few sips, your inner monologue of grunts starts turning first into syllables and then basic words. Words like: “mmm”, and “good”, and “coffee.” Soon, you’re putting them all together and declaring to the world, “mmm, that’s good coffee!”

While the early bird is scarfin’ down the worm, you’re tongue punching the bottom of that mug trying to get the last drop. As the caffeine courses through your veins, you begin making sense of your surroundings. Green blurs are turning into trees, shorter green blurs are turning into bushes, that strange piercing sound you hear turns out to be an old man yelling at you to get off his balcony. 

Suddenly it all starts hitting yah. This isn’t your house at all. You don’t live anywhere near here. You need to stop mixing Ambien into your coffee! Perhaps it’s time to finally look yourself in the mirror and own up to your addiction to sleeping medication. 

On the bright side, at least you’re going through this relapse in a fresh looking flannel shirt. And what a flannel it is. Blue, just like the ocean, interspersed with darker blue, just like the darker blue parts of the ocean. But unlike the ocean, it’s keeping you nice and toasty as you sip your coffee  on that old man’ s balcony

As the sun rises above the horizon, and the old man keep’s hollerin’, you start to think to yourself, this is the start to a beautiful day.