My Tap Runneth Over

I’m at work. I am overwhelmed, attempting to avoid the immediate/URGENT tasks which are before me. I am a little depressed. The kids are on antibiotics. Better that than oxycontin, I suppose, but I am disinclined to dig into their stash of banana-flavoured amoxi-whatever. No fun at all.

There was hope before lunch that a good sandwich would cure this malaise. No such luck. It was just a sandwich. I then sought some happy-making recourse in a bowl of yoghurt and granola. Again, disappointment. Now I have built up a cup of coffee as the answer to my plaint. The weight of expectation rests heavily on it. And it's just a fucking coffee. Go coffee.

pmo