Shifting Perspectives

Some days it's like someone put a soft filter on perception. Everything can be a little bland, replayed and uninteresting.

And then there are days like this morning, where like a cat I sit in a sunny window and unlike a cat eat waffles and drink coffee.

My carpet bought years ago at Goodwill looks incredibly detailed, as if someone turned up the resolution on life. The carpet was mysterious wet when I purchased it from Mediocre Intentions as a friend who was once employed there called it. Could it be urine, or water? For five dollars these are not reasonable questions. Five dollars for long orange shag, something that could have worked as my basketball nickname in the late 70's.

Drinking coffee tasted better today. Homemade Americano. Yesterday, maybe I burned it slightly, the coffee tasted like coffee tasted when I was a kid, bad.

I inherited the Danish Waffle maker of my youth when we moved. It makes the thinner, more delicate waffles, that I prefer. My first year of college I was given a found copy of the cookbook of my youth, from which I get my waffle recipe.

And so I think of place, as I consider several points in my life. Where do I belong? Or more aptly, where would I like to make my home, at least for a while?