Stephen Mejias

I could have said: "I was more tired than usual this morning." That might have been simplest and purest. I could have also said: "This morning, I was more tired than usual." But sometimes I just like to be different. I also thought that perhaps by saying, "More than usual, I was tired this morning," I would somehow be reinforcing the fact that:

I
was
tired.

Which is what I wanted to achieve.

Anyway. More than usual, I was tired this morning. On the walk to work, I stopped at the 24-hour deli on Newark Avenue, and ordered a large regular. A large regular at the 24-hour deli on Newark Avenue is still only one dollar. I consider this to be one of the great things in life. One dollar!

One of the not-so-great things in life is having only two hands while you’re riding the PATH train. Two hands! With one hand grasping stainless steel and the other occupied by a cup of coffee, how are you supposed to flip through the pages of some visually stimulating, yet ultimately shallow,

***

[I began composing this innocent entry shortly after I arrived in the office. I had had an idea, and, like a python swallowing a sheep, I wanted to get it down immediately. But, then, I stopped. I had to.

Before I could start again, many, many things happened. An entire world of things happened. Children were born, systems were installed, e-mails came and went, fruit-flies took dips into my coffee, a hybrid skeleton exhibiting characteristics of both Neanderthal and modern man was discovered, Saturn grew a new ring, a python swallowed an alligator, etcetera.

Now, at 6pm, I'm revisiting the morning's activities. I wonder how it will all turn out. It's safe to say that, to some degree, this entry has been lost. Certainly, it's not going to be the entry it could have been. Which is not to say it will be a worse entry. It will simply be a different entry. Let us see:]

***

Plus? This was my dilemma as I journeyed to the office. Both hands busy, I looked down into my Classic Records tote bag which rested at my feet. Inside, I could see the aforementioned hi-fi magazine, glowing proudly and looking back up at me.

It said: "Look at me."
I said: "Shut up."

And I wondered: If our civilization continues to commute like this for another twenty million years or so, will we grow a third arm?