roguemind

I am thinking a bit of ginger tea will do nicely. Some loud blues music. Maybe I throw in a good book. There is this new one I have been meaning to read. Some sort of science, philosophy, math, slightly religious amalgamation. Written by a guy I have never heard of but probably should have. I will top all of this off with a fake leather couch, a soft pillow and some soft lighting, just enough to see and not strain my eyes to badly. I need to relax. I have been feeling, well its complicated. But I will not get into that now. I have a large book to attack.
But the phone rings. I should ignore it. Work seems to be calling me a lot lately. Always stupid questions. Unscheduled schedule changes. That sounds ridicules because it is. It should not even be an issue for me, but thats one of my issues. Work has become a sort of soul sucker for me. It seems that everyday I climb down the ladder piece of me fades away. But I should not really complain about that ether. I volunteered for it right? Twice actually. But I digress. There is a phone beating on my ear drums. I pick it up and prepare a nice and angry glare for the caller ID. But again life surprises me. Its her. I never thought she was serious. Women don't hit on me and ask for a phone number. That sort of thing just doesn't happen to me. But it did I guess. And she even called. God knows why. I was funny but not that funny. Her name is Clare. I think that is how you spell it. I suppose that does not really matter to you guys. You're just here for a story. I met her at the book store. It has, as of late, become my favorite place to be. To most I can see how it would be boring. But not to me. To me it is release. Something to break up the flow of stupid that seems intrinsically bound to the entire institution that is the US Navy.
So there I was drooling over the classic book shelf. I envy anyone who has read even half of them. I tried to reach for a copy of Fyodor Dostoyevsky's Crime And Punishment. I have picked it up a hundred times But never actually bought it. I reach for it every time I come by a book store. I couldn't tell you why, I guess it has become sort of a habit. This time though my hand never made it.