A Friday

a gentle rumble of thunders,

lulls me out of sleep.

A sound of a garbage truck,

come to my ear.

I spring up out of bed,

knowing we had not put out the trash and recycling.

Knowing it was Tuesday.

Sleep falls off

and i stumble down the stairs.

No glasses on to make things single,

i close one eye and make it down,

open the door

and there is the local paper on the porch.

I stop.

The paper only come, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

"What day is this?", my brain screams.

It is Friday, i suddenly recount.

I turn and shut the door.

My other housemate,

who drinks coffee has a cup in his hand in the kitchen.

He is up for other reasons,

he still works.

It is only 5:30 in the morning,

much too early for me to be awake.

I mumble something

and he mumbles back,

a friendly exchange,

but neither of us is awake enough to do much else.

I stumble back up the stairs

and fall back into my bed.

It is only an hour later

and i am awake again.

The time is better

and i make my way carefully down the stairs again,

for coffee.

i am not going to drink what was made a 5:30

and left to burn and become bitter,

so i turn on the quick one.

I still can not think,

everything is rattled and confused,

but that is normal now for me.

Pod loaded into the machine,

blinking blue lights tell me i can brew.

I push the steady green light

and shut off the machine.

Waiting for a moment,

i do not know why the coffee is not pouring out.

I sigh,

a thing that is normal for me now,

i realize i shut the machine off

and turn it back on.

Coffee in hand,

i carefully make my way up the stairs again,

holding onto both the coffee cup

and the railing for dear life.

Setting the cup down,

i retreat back on the bed,

sitting up, i begin to sip the black brew,

pray for those around me,

i ask for direction for the day.

Somewhere, i remember again to be thankful,

for each day is precious.

The cup is empty and it is time for me to begin my normal routine.

My glasses lay some where,

but i can not put them on just yet.

I find T-shirt and over shirt,

holding them close to my face,

so i can make out a bit of detail,

them put them on.

I look for the glasses.

The dresser has become too cluttered

and even closing one eye does not help much.

I stand there half dressed

and there is some panic that begins to creep in,

until i find them and they are placed on my face.

The world is a bit clearer now

and more importantly, single.

The two images that i now see as a normal course of being,

the images which overlap are very confusing,

and are way too much for me to handle.

The remainder of my clothes come out of closets and drawer

and i assemble them on my body.

"The morning meds!", i exclaim out loud.

Often i miss them when things different than a routine happen.

It is not dangerous to miss them,

but missing the allergy pill can make my life really difficult, quickly.

The blood sugar test is next,

it has been so good lately

and i am upset when it comes back a high number.

Often, when placing the needle in the device i use to stick my self,

i prick my finger when closing the top,

that is because i really can not tell depth with the glasses.

Morning routine finished,

i amble down the stairs,

more alert and confident, with the glasses,

but i won't yet call myself fully awake.

My housemate is ready to leave for work

and we exchange some information and he leaves.

I sit down to the computer

and as i type,

a surge of energy comes into my body and mind

and i am awake.