Saturday, November 12, 2016

And For Every Hung Up Person in the Whole Wide Universe

A quick but noteworthy pantry soup of kale, potato and sausage.  Revved up boxed stock with carrots, onion and celery.

Earlier that day we treated ourselves to a brunch at Black Forest Brooklyn, where the coffee is deep and rich and goes down like liquid gold.  Omelettes with potatoes and salad, table at the window with the morning sun shining in.  I love when you're so fresh and awake that you have all these fun and interesting topics to speak about and nothing is sad or can ruin your mood.  We covered every current topic, all the thoughts and assumptions we made all week that we tucked back in our mind waiting for someone sane to share them with, make sense of.
We, two people that have never imagined ourselves in mundane anything, are both in atypical humdrum jobs that we say we hate and probably do, some. Maybe a lot.  Two people that have always found ways around convention have found ourselves somewhat trapped in work weeks and daily grind. I keep praying this too shall pass and hopefully before I do. We also appreciate things could always be much worse and people are suffering real atrocities. So instead of whining like old crypsters, we try to hold each other up. But in the bleakness is often mass amounts of humor and material.  We trade horror stories and jokes, always trying to one up the other in gross or crudeness.  And one of the blessings of being in such oppressed environments is that when you're out you feel such a strong sense of freedom that echoes throughout your entire body.
Don't know if it was part of the humor but P let me wear my cheaters with the tag sticker on the left corner while ordering from the young waiter.

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