true places

6:20pm

Last night’s Nyquil did the trick and it helped me stay in bed all day until it was time to get up and eat and grade work and review for tomorrow and read Melville and ponder terrible thoughts: My future is going into perilous waters and I can’t stay here.  No, I won’t stay here. 

I didn’t need to go in today, no classes, no tests, and once Ramadan starts I will go in less, or I will try to go in less.

The extra class begins Saturday, a post test of writing which I’ll grade, yahoo.  Then begins six or so classes of teaching the Speaking component of the toefl right up until my last day of teaching…with a Toefl class.  I’ll be introduced to the lab, cool, tomorrow, and a plan will be given to me.  All this in addition to my four thirty class is of course the days ahead clicking and clocking made painfully slow because it's time to go. 

I know, I never gave this city a chance, too much shit going on, another embassy email puts doubts in my head and I just don’t range out further than a supermarket.  As for the treadmill, it waits. 

And I returned from the corner market and I quickly discovered as I put things away I didn’t have the eggs.  I have to go get eggs because I want to eat them this week.  And you ain’t going back out now for them, meaning tonight?  For six eggs?  Consider that’s five minutes on the treadmill, walking there and back.  It’s an outrage, which is the most overused word on the internet today and i'll never use it again!!

I’ll go get eggs later, it wasn’t on tonight’s menu which is rice with vegetables including maybe, radishes, how do they taste grilled in olive oil?  I suppose I should make dinner now, it is dusk, the Afghans who will fast face fourteen hour days.  The heat hasn’t been too bad with clouds almost every day and by afternoon it is pleasant.  But temps are forecast to go up right at the same time.  Not a cool coincidence by any means.

I am destined to always have luggage with me. 

8:04pm—The rice is cooking and I walk to the front window and in the driveway there is a pick up with three large pieces of luggage in the back.  Looks like someone I don’t know is leaving forever.  I’m sure there’s one or two I never met in the cloister, everyone is old and everyone keeps to themselves unless they need the kitchen. 

Leaving is a defining moment every damn time.

I knew the word Starbuck was in Moby Dick.  Chief mate. 

Would a coffee company become successful if it were named Harpooner, not with animal rights activists today, I guess not. 

Nightclubs are called Harpooner and for sure if I looked at the internet I’d find 18 billion hits but I’m not looking because I’m reading Melville when it is late.  His ship has finally left Nantucket with his gathered cast of characters though I haven’t met Captain Ahab yet.  I think this book would have been a wonderful read at the time he wrote it I'd like to imagine. 

“It is not down on any map; true places never are.”