i need more coffee, i think. i’m holding in my hand a 501c3 letter that i’ve just faxed for a grant, which i need to return to the filing cabinet. i turn around, grab the almost empty coffee mug from my desk, and head down the hall.
oh, i need band-aids too. the moccasins i’m wearing have given me a blister on my heel. i have the 501c3 in one hand, and the empty coffee mug in the other. i turn right into the copy machine area, where i immediately think, why did i do that?
oh right, band-aids. i put the 501c3 and the coffee mug down on the organizing table and pop open the plastic first aid kit, pulling out two band-aids. i pause a moment to consider putting them on right there. no.
i hold the band-aids and coffee mug in one hand and the 501c3 in the other. i should put this letter away first. i walk, inexplicably, into the kitchen. sigh. i put the band-aids and the coffee mug on the coffee table and the 501c3 under my arm. with my free hand i pour the coffee, and stir in two packets of dunkin donuts sugar and some of the industrial-sized powdered creamer that resides next to the coffee machine. i pick up the coffee and the band-aids, transfer the 501c3 letter to my free hand, and head back down the hall.
i walk into my office and put the band-aids and coffee mug down on the desk. i realize that i am still holding the 501c3 letter, which was the whole purpose of walking out of my office in the first place. i toss in on a pile of other papers in defeat.
the coffee tastes burnt. i drink it anyway.