Put the cup down and no one gets hurt

You know you have had too much coffee when your mother’s insane stories start to make sense.

I’m still pushing through all of the research and I am continuing to hone the finished project while sneaking in new and other exciting things.

I strongly suspect I will be stalking my English teacher with updates and revisions. (Although if I hide them in her desk, would that be considered a hidden addendum?)

There’s just so much I want to say. I have had so little time for real life adventures, so I use my study breaks to get an airing, as my dad says.  I think without his help, my mother and I would be pasty and weird  ( at least we’re not pasty.  I think he’s afraid we’re going to go all Grey Gardens on him.

My mother urged me to get my post school day coffee at this small, family owned coffee shop.  The place is usually pretty dark and kind of furry, not in  moldy way, more in the way that a place that exists largely for the comfort of the family cats.  I think the cappuccino machine was purchased because Mittens and Puff-Puff like their milk steamed and frothed.

Anyway, I was waiting for my extra bold triple with caramel syrup when I heard a voice from the store room boom, “Get out of my head, you scary witch.” I didn’t know how to handle that.  I don’t usually eavesdrop, but when someone is shouting loud enough to make everyone’s demitasse rattle, I don’t think it counts.

I was a little nervous because the place is colorful, mostly in a good way, but sometimes in a “I sure hope I’m not the secret ingredient for tomorrow’s stew” kind of way.

I got my coffee and went home for a nap.

I dreamed that I was drowning in a vat of coffee beans.

Mom says it’s not a curse put on me by the neighborhood trolls and their furry  minions, it’s just the side effect of too much caffeine. 

What have we learned from this?

I have learned a lot in the last day, not the least of which is not to wait until the last minute to write your English paper no matter how short it is.

You think I would know better than to underestimate the deceptively short.

I  really,really enjoyed researching Willa Cather.

I learned a lot about her, and yes, a little about myself.

Mostly what I learned is that you shouldn’t  yell “Suck it, Gatsby!” when you uncover a fun fact about old F.Scott “coincidentally echoing a passage” from Cather’s A Lost Lady in his, in my opinion, vastly overrated Masterpiece.

And you especially shouldn’t yell that when you are in the middle of reading that section aloud in class.

Totally digging the hat, Willa.