MMW

markmurphywrites.com

Tag: blog

  • Morning Rest

    The curtains have parted just enough to see darkness.  It’s time to rollover to the other side, give my achy shoulder a rest, cover my head with a pillow, and try to fall back asleep.  Some mornings this method works.  Sometimes, it’s useless, my mind sprinting with thoughts better left unsaid.  But I’ve promised myself to be positive this season, starting each day with at least three thoughts of gratitude before getting out of bed.  I’m grateful for my faith, keeping me focused on the most important things in life.  I’m grateful for my job, getting to do something I’m passionate about today.  I’m grateful for my health, especially today, my rest day.  I wonder who opens the gym on Thursdays, Jill or Dan?  I guess the mind wants to sprint this morning, so let’s get up and get the coffee brewing.  

    The street lamps shine through my front windows, casting a strong enough glow to wander from the bedroom to the kitchen without turning on any lights.  I forced myself to set up the coffee maker before bed last night, but never set the timer.  I don’t want to jinx the elusive chance of sleeping in.  Push the brew button, bold setting, five minutes until warm satisfaction.  

    I like to write before reading, or more importantly, before turning on the phone, television, or computer.  Clear-headedness and creativity come in the still silence of my living room.  Poem?  Short story?  Quick blog?  I pick up the pen, put it to paper, and let my thoughts take over.  This is where the sprinting part of my mind actually helps.  The less I think about what needs to be written, the more freely narrative flows in just the right way.  I like to get the main points on paper, cursive style writing is fastest, and then I’ll stop to think.  I’m not foolish enough to believe that all writing is better with paper and pen, with the time it takes to transfer everything over to the computer, and the inadvertent edits made in that translation.  So, I crack open the laptop and really let the words fly, after my mind has finished the initial free-flow and is ready to rush words onto the screen.  

    Somedays, the coffee waits for thirty minutes or more as I wrestle with the keyboard.  Today, I’m ready when the brewing is done.  My thoughts and words were on the gym, the interesting conversations we have in the wee hours of the morning.  I live for my time counseling teens everyday at school.  But listening to adults in their micro-breaks between sets is often more complex.  Probably because I’m the first human they’ve talked to that day, but maybe because I’m the only person they’ll really talk to that day.  For the regular gym rats, the people I interact with at least a few times each week, the stories feel surprisingly honest.  D.J. wants to be heard, not just seen for his hulking physique.  Dan wants to finish college debt-free, but I’m not sure he loves computer science.  Jill wants to inspire the world, and she holds the early morning desk job in order to create all afternoon.  And there’s so many more.  I simply listen.  Truly listen.  I don’t need to be heard, because sometimes, that would only hold us back, hurting us both.  

  • Morning Manager

    Dark streets fly by, barely visible through the foggy windshield.  My next apartment will definitely have a garage.  My next car will definitely have better defrost.  Or maybe if I had the time to warm up the engine?  At least I’m awake and on time today.

    Can’t believe I agreed to this morning manager position, waking up two hours earlier just to open the gym.  And for what?  A lousy two dollars per hour raise plus the extra two work hours when I open.  Worst of all, I don’t even get to see Jill anymore.  She’s so cool.  I have no idea how she’s always so perky, especially with this early morning crowd.  Like Dante Jones, D.J., who annoyingly waits for me on the curb half the mornings, as if he can’t wait in his car like all the other meatheads.  I’m not even late, yet there he his.  I’ll just ignore him.  Not today, D.J.

    These philosophy classes are killing me, but at least the professor posts his lectures online.  My notes never seem to keep up with his thoughts, so luckily I can listen to him again at work before class.  Luckily, ha ha.  It’ll be lucky if I make it through this class.  Why does a computer science degree require philosophy, anyway?  Does the university really need more of my money?  If I can work another eight hours this week, and twenty four the next two in a row, I should be able to cover all of my expenses for the rest of this semester.  Unless I want to eat.  Chinese food sounds good.

    Most of the morning crowd leaves me alone, with a few polite hellos, and the occasional request to update a membership.  The quiet helps me prepare for school.  Plus, the evening shift cleans the place before leaving, so I only have a few towels to fold. Nothing difficult.  I wonder what Jill does in here before the rest of the morning shift rolls in?  There is this one dude, Alex.  He sort of has a face that makes me want to punch him, but what a chill guy.  On the days we cross paths, he always stops bye to ask about my life.  I think he actually listens, like he might care.  He had some great advice about student loan consolidation and deferred payment.  It really saved me last semester.  I notice him getting a pretty decent workout in, even though he holds conversations with a few of the other regulars.  According to his membership profile, he lives near campus.  I should ask him what he does.  Maybe computer science is the wrong choice.

    Anyway, five hours and some change to go, then two classes this afternoon.  Philosophy and cloud computing.  A match made in heaven.  I’m pretty comfortable with AWS already, so at least I’ll get an easy A there.  And what is D.J. staring at?  Should I go ask him what his problem is?  No, it would only end up hurting us both.