bored and unaccomplished

in the morning i wake up with beads of sweat crawling down my shoulders from my neck and face. the sun is boiling above nostrand avenue and the air is suspended in a grip of heat. i get up and rub my eyes with my fist and then blink a few times and yawn. one of the kitties jumps from the bed and walks to a shadow and lays down lazily. it is another day and another start to it.

at my desk i fire up my computer and sit in my leather office chair and a thick wet cloud of summer surrounds me. i open up my email and survey whats new and decide nothing is important and delete it all. i check my friend list and wonder who i want to chat with and wonder who wants to chat with me. there is a mutual vague interest between me and a few people so i open up a couple windows with a greeting of sorts. i dont have anything interesting to say. neither, it seems, do they.

i get up and i make coffee and feed the cats, who circle my feet in the kitchen with a slow, unaffectionate distance. when i open the fridge the cool air seems to lure one of them in and he jumps into the bottom rack, which is empty, like the rest of my fridge, and sniffs along the corners and rubs the edges of the crisper box with his face. for a moment i am jealous of him. of his size and the comforts of his luxurious life. of the ease in which he lives and breathes. sleeping when he wants and eating when he wants and demanding all he needs and getting every bit of it. now, in the merciless haze of summer he is in the coolness of my fridge and he is rubbing his face on things, making them his, and im staring at him bitter and tired and he isnt paying any attention to me at all.

i grab him by the skin at the back of his neck and pull him out and he falls to the floor and walks two steps then lays down casually. my other cat sits on the top of the garbage can staring curiously from me to him, a slight impatience in her wide eyes, waiting for the food to come. i pull two cans from the cupboard and open them up and spoon the contents into their bowls. chunks of fake beef and turkey in a syrupy gravy sauce. they eat with a greedy silence.

i sit back down at my desk with a cup of coffee in my hand. i roll a cigarette and think of the day. of all that it will bring. my head goes blank and my eyes glaze over and in a dream like state i let the sounds and the heat and the blur of the city wash over me.