The Coffee Daze
I used to drink a lot of coffee back in college. Those were the days when I wanted to be something, to be someone or to go somewhere-anywhere but there. I wanted adventure. I wanted excitement. But none was to be had, because I was a poor college kid living off of ramen noodles and coffee, doing errands here and there, wasting away over textbooks that cost more than my car. I was hoping for something to change, but it didn’t, and I slaved away over my homework, and by the end of the week I was so overwrought that nothing was better than anything I have been through, and I wanted to get out, to go, to be. But where was that? That seemed to be nowhere. At least I was away from home, I would think, and shudder at the anger of my mother, the absentmindedness of my father, the strangeness of my brother, who would lock himself in his room all day, playing his unhappiness through video games.