Grey

by agoodnow

I am sitting in the dark.

I sit here for a great number of reasons.   First is that I don’t see any reason to turn on a light.  I just don’t.  It would require me to get up and flip the switch on.  At the given moment laws of gravity and my sagging couch cushions do not want me to make that seven foot adventure.  I have my feet on my coffee table that was given to me by my uncle who also lives here in Manhattan.  It is a good, solid table.  On it there is a blue pen the spills black ink, keys to my studio apartment that has a picture of Manhattan hanging from its wall, couple of bills that I don’t particularly want to pay, an iPod that contains a Miley Cyrus song somewhere in the back, two coasters from the Haufbrau Haus in Munich, and two receipts that I don’t really want to look at in fear of how large the numbers may be individually or in aggregate.

I could move my feet from this collection of things, but I chose the dark instead.  It is cloudy outside and there is a certain grey showering the day.  That grey has crept into my apartment and I’m not so sure I want to remove it.  It seems to decorate well on the white walls and hide what I don’t particularly want those I allow inside to view.  It is not surprising that the t-shirt I have on is grey.  I wear it well.

For breakfast I ate two Aleve and a half pint of ice cream.  I hate to say this, but it may have been brunch as I ate it at 1 pm.  I dislike brunch.  I think it is stupid.  The concept bothers me.  I dislike that people make brunch a thing.  A destination.   I don’t really like brunch items.  I’d rather just eat ice cream with two Aleve.  It fits my personality much better than pancakes with sprinkles on them.

There is a stack of magazines in the corner of my apartment.  They are covered in dust and I have my sincere doubts about their purpose.  I sometimes think they will spontaneously catch fire one day.  The revenge for not reading New Yorker Magazines cover to cover.  Only reading the Malcom Gladwell articles and the Woody Allen pieces.  The ones that might make me laugh.  At times I would like to throw them out…release some clutter, but I dare not.  As soon as I embarked upon such a venture I would NEED to reference the February 10th’s issue of the New Yorker to read an article on bird watching in Peru.  It is my greatest fear at that moment.  Loss.

I look in this grey and I am comfortable with it.  I will get up on leave it soon.  I have to.  But I will return to it as I always do.  Time and time again. It stays with me because we recognize each other.  And I suppose it is about time I accepted that.