My grandfather played football for Georgia Tech. All my life, I have attended football games with my dad and my brother. I must admit soccer has destroyed my patience with American football – all the stopping and starting and commercials. Nonsense. But I am a Tech fan. Have been since I was a baby. Can’t be helped. And Tech is plain awful this year. Awful. Terrible. They stink. Tech is like that – feast or famine. They lose at home to Duke after fumbling three times in two minutes and then they beat the snot out of Virginia Tech away. What is that?
I will admit being a Tech fan made being a Liverpool fan a walk in the park. At least, Liverpool sings even when the team is less than stellar. Liverpool rocks this year so they will help me endure Tech’s alarming short-comings. And honestly, Liverpool has had seasons like the one Tech is currently playing. Beat the big teams, lose to the bottom of the table.
At least I have a great cup for the whole Tech thing. And I am ignoring them until they stop stinking. But memories – so many memories of being at Grant Field with my family cheering them on through both great and terrible seasons. A Thursday night game away – and a Saturday without them. There’s Liverpool. I’ll watch that and then two chapters to edit today – 10th and 11th. Pushing my way through.
A writer mentioned they were spending early morning (5 AM) at a coffee shop doing edits. While the 5 AM sounds inglorious, writing before the sun is a wonderful idea. I am going to try it. There is a Starbucks close by that opens before the dawn. I have edits to do and I need coffee (and maybe a danish) to do it so that is where I am bound.
It will feel a bit like purgatory, that time between waking up and getting coffee in my cup. I even have the perfect cup. It can stay here for the evening coffee. Tea? Do I really need to sleep? Off I go.
Losing a day becomes tougher the longer a life endures. I missed an entire day of writing due to having to spend the day having medical procedure performed and then feeling like crap afterwards. Not even coffee could rescue me.
I started drinking coffee at the age of fifteen so I could appear awake at my first period class in school. Now I drink it to fight time, to stay up longer, write longer, and try and be civil to my co-workers. Some days I lose that battle.
I remember getting this cup that reads “The Older I get the Better I Used to Be” for my thirty-fifth birthday. I believed I was old and done for in my early thirties. To those at that age, you are so stupid young. Do not even worry about it. The hour glass is still mostly full for you. I wish I had realized that. Being in a hurry is a sure way to set you behind.
Once in a while, I like brunch. I do love grits and bacon and eggs and combining two meals into one. My daughter and I used to do a lot of brunches, especially during her college years for her rare visits home. It would be brunch on Sunday and back to school she would go. We had done brunch on weekends and holidays throughout her life at various places.
Brunch is a tradition with my family, something that was always done after early morning church. We continue to have frequent brunches with my parents and my brother and his family and various other family members from time to time. As I understand it, my daughter enjoys brunch with friends in New York with some frequency. It must be amazing to have so many places to choose from. Today, I fix my own brunch because there is writing to do and it is a “Do Not Disturb” sort of situation. So I pour coffee in my favorite brunch cup.
My favorite brunch place is The Flying Biscuit. They have the best grits on the planet, as close to what my grandfather used to make when I was still a wee ankle biter. Also, I appreciated the humor of this place and its view on children. Don’t get me wrong. I like children. Just not with my breakfast. This place moved away during my daughter’s college years to too far away for a quick bite. So no more espresso and puppies for the children.
However, my favorite brunch mug came from The Broken Egg. It is a New Orleans style place. It proved a good place near my home to meet for brunch with friends or to take my daughter on weekends when she visited. I still go there. Their grits are good but not perfect. However, they serve beignets – that’s a fried donut covered in powdered sugar. Very good stuff. For our next adult trip, I think I will spirit my daughter out of New York and into New Orleans for the real deal. It’s been too long since my last visit to that haunted and musical place.
There is much to do, places to go, work and family obligations. Can I go to point A to point B without my coffee? No, no, I can’t do that. So I have a to go cup to keep my coffee properly hot as I travel from grocery shopping to bookstores and of course each work day. That is one commute I can’t navigate without my little side companion.
It’s not an addiction. I can stop anytime. Really…
Sorry, I can’t talk, blog, chat, or do anything right now. I am coffee deprived and 395 pages of line edits away from final read through before hitting the query trenches. Leave me be. Go away. It is not safe to be near me. I am sort of freaking out. What if I never finish this thing? What if everybody hates me?
Well, I guess that would be the same old, same old…
Today I sip coffee from the cup I got when my daughter and I visited The Grove Park Inn in Asheville, South Carolina right before she flew the coop and moved to New York.
The cup is teetering on the edge of oblivion just like my current book. I am doing line edits now, a last round of them, and it is going so sloooooowwww. Reign rain rein – which one has to do with pulling a horse back? Ugh! Can imperial be used instead of draconian?
Coffee is not doing its job. I best not break the cup. It has sentimental value as much as anything does to me. Taking another sip. It’s after 5 PM. Shouldn’t I be changing over to tea? Ah well, so my esteemed colleagues at work will have to get on without heads tomorrow. Best press onward. There’s no going back now.
I wish I could go back to the Grove Park Inn. My daughter and I had a lovely time at the spa, but I have already recounted those adventures in this past blog post, Clothing Optional