This would be far from the first time I’ve mentioned a meat lovers omelette from the BZB and apart from supersizing it (Candy’s answer to ‘how much more meat can you put into for an extra $5’,) I didn’t really think there was anyway that it could be much better than it already is. Literally, it’s already smothered in gravy. Then the day before Thanksgiving I decided I would treat myself to this local delicacy in the spirit of yesterday and I found that it can in fact be even better than it usually is. This time, it was free.
As she cleared my plate from the table and asked if I’d like a warm up of my coffee (a cup of the purest caffeine- though I’ve lost my taste for coffee in preference of tea, I found it again when she couldn’t find any tea bags,) which I declined, then told me my bill had already been covered by a couple a few seats away. I had noticed them and remembered giving the gentleman a polite head-nod as I sat. Other than than though, I had made no explicit conversation with anyone outside of the waitress.
This is a new waitress. I was very used to the previous waitress, she knew to bring packets strawberry jam for my toast. She also new that I’d be ordering wheat toast to go with my meatlovers omelette. The first time I had this new waitress I had to ask for strawberry. This time she brought two packets of strawberry in a small bowl with the other choices too. I hope I shall maintain an active enough blogging experience to chronicle the next several decades of people that bring me omelettes there. The first one was Ashley, this one has her septum pierced. Both are (?) too young for me to ask out, yet I continue to think about that while I wait for my omelettes. Somehow, that makes a part of me still young and that is good.
November is almost over, I’ve got some work to do this weekend. Somehow I’ve managed to push off and or otherwise delay a handful of assignments onto the same deadline: after Thanksgiving break. That time has come and I just… I could just… “let it go”? Ha, ha, I could certain let this semester slip by. I really need to decide what I’m trying to do here and then apply myself to that goal. No longer is this an internal question of “if I can do it”, now I know again that I can so the previous of goal of just getting by each class like everyone else does doesn’t seem to apply anymore. I don’t know why (well, other than decades of experience of being ‘me’,) I keep doing it over and over,.l[/ it being, making things harder for myself.
Maybe- I think- I could say- So many ways to start a sentence to say I know I like to challenge myself and others. At the beginning of the semester, I wanted to challenge myself to obtain a degree. The thought might sound a bit rude, yet the challenge was in how brain damaged I thought I was. I thought I could still skate by doing the minimums, flashing a smile- and maybe a handicap card if I needed to. And I was right- I would have pushed myself though. Now though, if I’m here apparently feeling the need to challenge myself, to show how well I could do this ‘college thing’ if I was going to.
Rather the monotony of the task is against me again, perhaps only now I see the task for what it is. I want to do well, I want others to know as well I suppose. So then do I try harder? NO, or actually, yes, that is what I usually do, rather though, I think I should try longer. A semester of writing and I was only able to get three graded papers- my (though the most apt to be called this, he professes not to be my,) professor says it seems that I’m trying to “stuff a 15,000 word essay into a two thousand word assignment”. Without going into detail with him, I was quick to agree. I do want to write something good and information-dense about some important topic – I was to show (aka, attempt then improve,) my writing prowess. It won’t happen this class, I’d have to take another. Another year of English classes could give only dozen more papers to write, opportunities for my expression, then? More classes?
I’m realizing the people teaching the classes are also the ones selling them. LOL. Okay- I keep finding myself wanting to be bitter, really now, I’ve earned the right, right? I’m not sure anymore. It sucks to get hurt, to be hurt. However “bitter” seems like more of choice- and it’s not the choice I want. So… better choices. Better choices lead to more choices. Okay, I wanted to write something about gratitude and I suppose this was it. I can’t believe I’m alive and walking and talking. Walking, did you hear that? Almost without a limp, sometimes. My left foot had been doing a new thing lately- it’s the oddest yet most comforting feeling. My foot is standing up for itself. It feels like walking in high heels- except the heel is my own heel and I’m finally standing up on top of it!. My left foot is no longer limp, flat, or practically dead.
If a person fully appreciates all the gifts they’ve ever received, the only (* naturally ordered?,) human reaction would be to return in kind. That was my answer when I was asked to explain an “attitude of gratitude” earlier this week. I do not know the value that my writing might provide, to myself or others, yet provide it I will. And yes, even publish it. The second book is still on my list. Homework, and books, I need to get back on my lists again.
I think I’ve finally gotten my workstation figured out… MacBook sitting closed on my desk, connected to the 47″ 4k monitor with the Windows workstation on the 27″ 4k screen above. Somehow I lost some comfort with my writing (likely as I gained a dog in my lap about the same time my laptop stopped fitting so well,) and this current experience is feeling kind of nice. Leaned back in my desk chair (thank you again a thousand more times Fr. Kurian,)
this is comfortable. Business on the top, party (in the back,) on the bottom. With the top being 4k yet only 27 inches, Windows does nicely. On this screen too close, it was too dense for one tab and not enough pixels for multiple tabs, further away windows handles both nicely- a single screen is perfectly useable and a quaded screen, or thereabouts, is more than viewable (minus some title-bar screen-hogging situations.)
Prose or verse- one day, I will know those words; til then, I shall continue.
On the bottom, the Macbook Pro kicks ass on the 47″. The lock screen alone makes me want to stop and stare at it, a slow mesmerizing flyby of an immaculate vineyard that stills itself to a a background image. A looping video, waiting for password input… ohh, and Apple makes it look so nice. I could go on, I might in the morning, or even after midnight. Yet, the <break>, I think that has got to go– as a technique, not a notation.
This feels almost like the “seven screens” from that tetra-hydra hacking movie. But, only two screens/ 4k top and bottom, 47 down and 27 up.
8k and 74 inches.