Second coffee

I no longer use my hulking desktop computer for anything but an archive repository. But the paleo-HP doesn’t know this about itself, and it accedes to every Windows 7 update that wakes it up. And, in fact, Windows awoke my HP at around 4:00 this morning as it, and I, stupidly slept. (My husband sleeps with fully engaged intelligence, and the Cat only sleeps in his dreams.)

As Windows prepared to dribble 28 must-have updates into my computer, the motor kicked on with the determined hum of a C-105 preparing for take-off, and the monitor shined into the hall like a supernova, illuminating the bedroom with a blue glow.

I have never been clever at falling asleep in airports, or in computer-simulated airport-like home environments (CSALHE), so I got up at 5:00 and made coffee. I tried to read, but my resentment toward the computer for its big-screen spectacular of light and sound left me with concentration sufficient only for planning a computer funeral. No death would be too ghastly for the HP.

I normally get up at 6:00, but somehow the difference between 5:00 and 6:00 in the morning is about four hours. I decided that as long as I was up, I might as well go to the hospital lab for a blood test I need for my doctor’s appointment later this month. The lab opened at 7:00, I hadn’t eaten anything (black coffee was permitted), and I could get the test over with.

I arrived at the lab at 7:20. There were four people waiting for blood draws ahead of me. There was one technician, then two, and within about half an hour, a third technician came on duty.

At 7:40 I called my husband to wish him a fine and fruitful day; I wasn’t going to make it home before he left for court at 8:00.

I was called for my draw at 8:19. I cannot explain why it took an hour for my turn. These are the things of government health and its radiant efficiency. The computerwork (formerly called “paperwork”) and blood draw took about 10 minutes.

Hospital parking lots usually confound me; but incredibly, I was still oriented enough to find the door I came through when I arrived, and I even sighted my car where I expected it to be. I ate my Cocoa Loco bar on my way home, and looked forward to my second coffee, the second coffee that I would need a tad early this morning.

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2 Comments

Filed under Action & Being

2 responses to “Second coffee

  1. You have a gift for making others smile even over your misfortunes L! Though I feel so grieved about the long wait (having w . . a. . . i. . . t . . . e . . . d on an empty stomach for a blood draw for what felt like a thousand years but was only 20 minutes, the thought of a whole hour and 20 makes me sympathetically ill) and about being wakened that way I couldn’t help laughing over the computer simulated airport like environment :-). I also sleep stupidly. What a coincidence.

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