Just a little while longer . . .

until my kitchen is organized.

I hope.

It’s all new here, so I haven’t settled into a rhythm yet, except in the mornings, when I hear the songbird, and so I am lacking motivation.

At night, I am getting home at various times, working long hours but not difficult hours. And there is a great coffee shop where I may eventually settle in to write, but there is a problem currently: they close at 6 p.m. and rare is the day that I can get home that early. So, at night I get here and tidy up a bit, and just stare at the tubs of still-packed kitchen supplies, and then turn around and find something else to do. I have plenty of laundry to do, but I keep forgetting to remember to get quarters.

This morning, I grabbed a box of veggie patties for my lunch for today. That box was the only thing in my freezer, so they were easy to find. But I forgot to heat them in the microwave at work before I left the station to deliver, and when I decided to eat them anyway, I looked at the package and saw the warning: Cook before eating. I had a handful of almonds and some chocolate for breakfast, and a couple of protein drinks for lunch, and then I was out of food, except for the unsafe patties. I almost spread them on the dash of my truck to bake them in the sun but thought better. Really, I was thinking of better things than eating, because somehow, again! the music was so well-timed that it seemed my mind (or my heart) was being read.

As I was day-dream praying, I was also driving with my right hand and shuffling through the mail with my left, and I swear, right there in the letters, nestled down between two envelopes, was a single almond. I have no idea how, when, whence it came to be there, but I know why: I was hungry, and that almond became my daily bread.

After my kitchen is organized and more accessible, life will be so much easier, and my lunches will turn out just fine. It’s all okay for now, I suppose, but I am hoping that it will only be a little while longer . . .

Photograph “Flowers from Milwaukie” © 2018 Timothy Waugh