As my eyes awaken and divide to meet the light and before my two feet touch the coolness of the ground,
I look up to the heavens and greet God and ask him how he is doing? I say you probably worked a lot over night yet you still here to start me on my day. Thank you.
I looked to my left and see my husband fidgeting in bed wrestling with the extra five minutes of rem from his sleep. Then he rises.
We don’t speak, we only glance at each other for half a second not expecting conversation because we know what needs to be done.
I make coffee, he gets ready for work. He ties his shoes and looks at me sideways from the hallway to the kitchen and just nods his head. That means hello in man language. What I’m making for breakfast is liquid adrenaline, coffee. He doesn’t drink the java. He hates it. For me its energy enough to last me as long as it takes my husband walk out the door. Then I rush to crash into my bed again.
No luxury, not lazy, not motivated, maybe. No chemicals can help me from this column thats crushing me. Will I be ok? Time will either make me or break me. Aight!
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