This morning, I thought I was going to die.

I woke up just fine, got dressed, put on make-up*, did my hair, and started up a pot of coffee.  Now, this morning, I was particularly enjoying the process of making the coffee, because I had just gotten a new bag of Hazelnut Community Coffee, and its aroma was a sweet seduction, drawing me in, chanting a tribal rhythm to my soul.  The weather outside helped set the stage – cool, kissed by the night’s rain, grey, and still.  The perfect morning to indulge in a quiet moment communing with coffee, nature, and inner peace.

And then it hit me.

I was supposed to be fasting this morning for blood work.  I felt as though a little piece of me curled up like a brown autumn leaf, withered and dead.

So, instead of relishing that simple pleasure this morning, I get to go and have my blood drawn across town.  So much for inner peace.

On the bright side, my travel cup is clean, so I should be able to drink my coffee after being violated by needles.


*Which, by itself, is a sign of the apocalypse, but in conjunction with doing my hair is a sign that you should assume the world has already ended.


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