I was bored. Bored, bored, bored, bored, BORED. I fiddled itchily with my pencil. I wasn't going to draw, for fear of another memory. They were like medication, and made me feel spacey. I tossed my journal aside, and went downstairs to Julia's office.
She was fidgeting nervously in her chair. She took another sip of coffee. I began to tug on my hair. That's what I did when I was nervous. It was a bad habit that Joe swore would make me bald by 20.
"I should know," he would say, patting the minuscule bald spot at the top of his head. He was such a tease, I thought. That set me to wondering about my father. I stopped, when I realized Julia was eyeing me, concerned.
"Uh, yeah," I said, coming out of my dream-like state. "What's up?"
Julia sighed, and nodded. "Nothing good. Dumont (one of her co-workers) made a bad move. Now I've gotta dig him out of a hole." She scowled, twisting her face into an ugly knot.
"So.." I said, waiting for more.
"So, I've got a big mess," she said exhaustedly. "Sweetie, do me a favor, will ya?" I nodded.
"Go make me another pot of coffee, please." She gave me a weak smile, and I went to make another pot of coffee. I liked the new coffee maker. It took about half the time to make coffee the old one did, and my parents drank a lot of coffee. I stood there, pouring in the hot water.
I had a slight feeling that I had watched someone else do this, and they weren't Julia and Joe. I felt the haziness coming on, and knew I should sit down. Resistance only made it worse. It would leave me in a daze for hours after if I tried to avoid it.
It wasn't so bad. It was vague and sketchy. But I still had no control over it. I tried to back out, because it was weak, and I thought I could. No. Suddenly I was sucked full force into the past in a vortex of nostalgia.