Waking up to a rattling heater and a kitty that needs his middle-of-the-night tuna fix. The charm and innocence of his addiction momentarily obscures all the evil addictions plaguing so many. No need to specify, right? We can all make our own list.
I crawl back into my pallet on the floor. Beds exacerbate my claustrophobia. For no justifiable reason I indulge one of my evil addictions by checking my phone. My kitty, which has nestled his full belly against my legs, becomes irritated by the light of my phone and inattention and waddles off to his bed. Google lets me know that recently a door fell off an airplane in flight and crashed into a Nevada shopping mall. After a few moments of manic disbelief, I reflexively place an Amazon order for an item that I really don’t need. Convenience overrides need, but it’s also a poor remedy for what truly ails our society, and myself.
After hitting the “Confirm Order” button, I set my phone down and contemplate an airplane door hurling to earth and smashing into our dreams of sense and sensibility and safety. It feels as though we are all huddled around a Vegas craps table, pushing our lives around felt squares and blowing on dice. I want to walk away from the craps table and find a coffee shop where I can enjoy a tea with honey and lemon. Where is that coffee shop that is impenetrable to randomly descending airplane doors?
I’ve given up trying to fall back asleep. I settle into the warmth of my blankets and wait for my kitty to return. I’m content with no further sleep and to be his shield against descending airplane doors. Thankfully, he has no use for craps tables, but the tumbling dice would surely fascinate him.