Sleepy and the Three Microwaves

29^th November of 2010

Dear Cassi,

Okay, this letter might sound a little dicey because I can hardly keep my eyes open. That's not a good thing when you just started your shift. The night stretches before me like and endless field shrouded in mist and I, weary and careworn, wish I could rest before my long walk. Well, there are more distressing things in this world than heavy eyelids. I've put the fan on my face so that the cool air can wake me up some.

I don't understand how I can be wide awake when I came to work and falling over a few minutes later. I mean, take it as it comes and all, but I just had a cup of coffee, and I still feel sleepy. I woke up better after a walk, but I still feel as if I could just roll into bed and sleep for a week. It works out that way some times.

Maybe I should have accepted that cola (my coworker) tried to give me when I relieved him. He got the last one out of the machine, but I could have asked for a can and not a bottle like he got. He only offered me the cola because I gave him Amber’s old microwave. I had to get rid of it anyway.

I don't know if I ever told you the tail of the three microwaves. It was one of those things where you wind up with so much crap you don't know what to do with it. I'd had a row and work and taken my microwave home. We had one already. The third came out into the dining room as if of its own accord. It kind of looked like a cross between the two microwaves we had that I could account for. I even went as far as to ask my Paul where it came from.

The microwaves were multiplying! This was a ghastly omen to a man wanting to get rid of his microwave. Eventually I gave the unit from my work to my neighbor and put an old shirt over the microwave from nowhere. Then, more than a year later, I was coming on duty and (my coworker) was getting off. (my coworker) said he needed to warm up his lunch.

“(My coworker), shouldn't you warm that up when you get home?” I asked him and he said that his old microwave wouldn't warm up something that big. He said that he never put more in it than two tortillas. This sounded like a perfect opportunity to unload the mystery microwave. I took it out and tested it. The thing still worked but my Paul suddenly remembered that was my Amber's when she had been in college. That was ten years ago. The microwave was fourteen years old.

Then when I brought the microwave to work (My coworker ) said that his brother was getting a microwave and would likely give him the old one. Groan, why the hell hadn't he said something in the first place? Then he told me that it wasn't certain and the his brother's microwave was old too. Again, too much information, what do I need to know that stuff for? You try to help someone and they just go out and give you grief about it.

Well, I shouldn't be surprised. After all, look at all the people I've helped. Not one was there when I needed help, those that could be and those that couldn't fell together in a stew of useless. Oh well, I came out stronger for it in the end. My goal was to be rid of that microwave and I'm rid of that microwave. Next there will be some more junk to toss away.

I've got to get things out of my house like I've got to get things out of my head. Clear life, clear thought, clear sailing. If all the world could be pristine again and the scars of the past erased then perhaps I could get a fresh start. Well, it's a dream that will never happen, but I can still get rid of some of my crap.

Stay safe,

Richard Leland Neal