The kitchen table

My new kitchen table. I got it today, after much grappling with logistics and confusion. It replaces the other, brown table I had since I was married; but, since the husband is gone, so is the table.

There was some confusion as to why the table should be delivered on a certain day. I can't figure that out, but I won't dwell in minute details that no longer matter.

I wanted to take a photo of the table, completely clear and clutter free. It may be the only time this happens. I don't plan to ever eat on the table, though I did tonight because the clutter free surface was very appealing. Instead the kitchen table serves as my two cats' feeding area. I leave their food bowls on the table to avoid the nasty, tiny ants that invade my home looking for free handouts. My thought on this is: why make it easy for them.

Also on the table, where I sit typing this currently which is kinda cool because I'm tired of sitting in the chair in the living room - that is part of the old life, gotta get a new one. The oak and press board table is holding my four favorite things in the world (aside from the kitties) which are also what I'm addicted to, funny how that works.

My computer is the most awesome thing. It connects me to the bigger world, and keeps me up to date on the news (which I miss). It's also how I communicate with friends. Not to mention the writing which is beginning to settle back into place - where it friggin' belongs.

The coffee is important because I tend to live off caffeine at times, and it just tastes nice - kinda bitter and sweet.

My ipod. I live for what it offers me: music. My sanctuary and salvation; my feelings and blood. I know lots of people will never get this, but I know one will and that's all that matters.

The phone. Who ever guessed I would be addicted to texting. It doesn't matter to who (well it does, but whatever). Communicating in quick written bursts designed to convey a whole conversation in a few keystrokes and thoughts. Quite frankly, it could be the most coolest thing ever conceived. It's instant and written. Snail mail is an art, but one that is long lost. Why would I post a letter, when I could text my thoughts in a few quick letters?