In a half conscious state of *morning a night’s sleep, I decided to approach breakfast. No, I am not and was not the stealthy hunter approaching wild animals gathered by a watering hole, but it might as well have been. Half baked and feeling a bit far from myself, but there nonetheless, I proceeded to occupy the blender with fruits, nuts, and whatnot. To me, this is a usual point in my day - a point in which I make something to sustain myself, for what it’s worth. Fully loaded, save for the spinach, I watched as the food processor/ blender, with its great angry teeth, decided to do a vibrational dance on my counter top. Vroom, vroom, vroom, vrrrrrroooom...The base was jumping around the surface like a punk in a mosh pit doing The Toxic Waltz. More awestruck than fear struck, I watched as the glassed-in house rotated a few degrees to the right. All the while, the roof pumped up and down with a crazy **loco-motive action/reaction resembling a semi’s stack pipe’s exhaust cap in motion. Not for anything, I was thinking to myself, why does “it” have to fuck with me? Why today? Things like this only happen in the movies and they are staged, but then again, I felt like I was only playing the role of the watcher who would wonder and ponder the results. I now sip the concoction that I call my breakfast as I write this noise.
* For clarification purposes, I was not mourning a night's sleep per se.
**I know locomotive is one word, but in this case, the contraption had a bizarre unknown motive for its behavior/reaction to the mix or what have you.
I wonder what lunch has in store for me.
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