Magic beans…

I put a lot of stock in coffee.  It’s pretty often for me to drink so much coffee that I get shaky because I have the mentality, “the more coffee, the better,” despite getting a fuzzy head after 3 cups.  It’s like my subconscious believes that a magical amount of coffee will make something glorious happen.  I’ll finally have that amazing idea; I’ll finally write that punchline to that premise I’ve had for weeks…magical things will happen because of these magical beans.  When really the only thing magical that happens are the brown rainbows that come out of my butt…

The closest that we get to magic is the unexpected.  Like a dog shitting in the middle of a house party…that’s pretty magical.  Did the dog do it on purpose?  Did anyone step in it?  It’s an innocently weird event that you’ll always remember as funny…which to me is magical.

Me being able to focus on something for more than 15 minutes…magical.

I’m sure that I’m not the only one with the same flawed-logic faith in coffee.  My generation is the generation of “instantaneous results.”  Want something, try something, get a result…be disappointed when the result takes longer than a day.  I really blame the microwave and bananas for a lot of this because they mapped my psychology to be, “Crave food, instantly have food,”  which is why it’s really frustrating to plan out short steps to achieve long term goals.

Maybe this is more of an American thing because Europeans can travel to a different country in a matter of hours.  “I went to a different country today!” proclaims Jacques.  That’s an admirable achievement in my book.

My brain feels like swiss cheese.  Like one part thinks of an idea, then the idea just slips through a hole and out of my head forever.

Too much coffee…nailed it.



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