The Sun Rose Only to Laugh

It was a nice dream. Not the sort of dream painted by vicious detail, not something I really remembered once I awoke. It was a feeling that stuck with me; at least it did through breakfast. The coffee from some indiscernible k-cup was good, nothing special. The two Wegman’s blueberry waffles would have been better if I had bought syrup or watched them in the insufferably hot toaster. But I didn’t check the toaster and the waffles took on a darker bronze, like a woman basking in the sun for far too long. Crunchy, the waffles were crunchy and a bit flakey. I got up to throw out the burnt mess, settle for something cold and easy, maybe cereal. As I moved the plate it hit the coffee mug and the mug fell from the ottoman, landing on the carpet with a dull thud. The steam rose from the floor and the room filled with an aroma of java. Not a delicious smell of coffee, it wasn’t like walking into a Starbucks, the smell of crushed coffee beans filling the nostrils. No, it was a muddy coffee smell that mingled with the odor of carpet that needed to be vacuumed. What was that dream again? How did it make me feel? It didn’t matter now breakfast was over.
It was Wednesday when all this went down. Wednesday wasn’t anyone’s favorite day. Sure, hump day meant half the week was over, halfway there to a weekend of freedom. I didn’t mind Wednesdays and I especially didn’t mind Mondays because I don’t have classes on either of those days. If my coffee didn’t spill, if my breakfast didn’t bring about the start to a bad day, I would have gone to the gym and gotten some work done. But I was already enveloped in cloudy skies and a bad attitude. Escape was unmanageable, a ruined breakfast and a big empty house with loneliness creeping in every corner. I didn’t want out, I wanted to sit in my own self-pity. It was just one of those days. For me, those days occur on a regular basis and most of the time it’s easier to raise my white flag and surrender into it.
I know what you’re thinking, “over breakfast, really? You’re going to ruin your day over a crappy meal?” But it wasn’t about the meal or the fact that the school schedule I had to make turned out to be bad the scratches on my front bumper left by some driver who couldn’t stop and leave a note. I had a bad day because I let everything get to me. It happens, sometimes all a person can do is let the bad in and not see any of the good. We are all accustomed to this idea. Sometimes it’s just easier to feel sorry for yourself instead of putting up the good fight and struggle to have a good day. On Wednesday I can honestly and easily say the sun rose just to laugh in my face. And maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon I’ll wake up and laugh at the sun for thinking it can get me down. Life’s a long, weird war and sometimes you just have to worry about the day-to-day battle. I suggest turning to writing like I have. Write about your bad days to get them off your chest. Turn to poetry to make a bad day turn into a good one. That way, if coffee spills or a very poorly organized schedule needs to be created, writing will be the foundations that will lift you up. Some days are harder than others, but I assure writing a poem or a short story is the best way to get things off your mind. As always have a wonderful weekend and thanks for reading! #InternIan


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