The sun has risen in the distance as I type this slowly, trying not to miss a key. It’s the middle of the week, and I’m hoping for the best to come before the weekend. Now that I have found a path to get there, I can gather the ability to relate to others and their passions. They seem so furtive as if I’d found them out, except I can’t. I’m not that observational.

But anyway, the middle of the week is like a dog that scratches itself. I watch him as he works his ear and shakes his head at what has gotten to him. It’s the dead of summer. I say “dead” between my gums with emphasis. The heat has weakened me. I drink my water like it’s never going to last. Just like the weekend is too short, so is water. And the heat dehydrates me. What else is there to do but stay inside until the summer ends? And that won’t be for at least another several months. September rolls along just like a train that coasts down the track too slowly. And I’ll be stuck in August with a job that breaks my back. My new supervisor told me she wasn’t a micromanager, which isn’t always good. I mean, no one loves a micromanager. Except I think we all need someone who can watch us for what we’re missing.

A lot has happened since the newest development. I’m working on a salary, not hourly. No longer do I have to punch the clock. Now some people may say that that’s a good thing, but that’s them talking. I have to hold myself accountable, except I’m a different person when it comes to my job. I go a steady pace which doesn’t work for everyone, and that can bring a lot of stress to me. I worry about what will happen next.

I see a woman with a dog in the shop who ordered coffee. Her shirt says, “All I need is coffee and my dog”. That’s like me wearing a shirt that says, “All I need is coffee and my laptop” as people see me at this table. She should wear that every time she comes in here with her dog. It’s a K-9 police dog. Yesterday she wore a collared shirt that didn’t say anything. She should buy seven shirts that say the same thing. They can be different colors. I wouldn’t be pedantic about that. I wear shirts with nothing on them, no statements, no letters or numbers, just plain shirts that don’t bring attention to me, or unwanted attention that is.

The dog is panting, and he looks around as the lady chats with the older men at the long round table. I adjust to the sun shining through the window. They pull the shades down in here to keep it away. She left with her coffee now. I have nothing to look at. The shades come down. I take a break.