Words and Pieces

Monday is back! Another day, another chance to start again… a beginning… a forward start into a new week, a push into the unknown. Monday gets a bum wrap, a kick in the ass, it gets a little bullied and is dreaded by so many. Monday is a bad hair day… Not enough coffee in the world day… “you look tired” day I’m here but I’m not here, going through the motions kind of day. Just press “auto pilot” day. Did u have a good weekend? What did you do this weekend? Do anything exciting over the weekend? How are you doing? It’s a too many questions kind of day! On Monday you need: A wake up call. A seat on the train. An intravenous with a caffeine drip. Celia Cruz on itunes. A feel good mantra taped to your forehead. Chocolate... and one of those stress reducing squeezy balls With a smiley face. Songs have been written about Mondays. There is “Long Monday”, “Blue Monday” “Monday, Monday” and “Manic Monday” “Wish it were Sunday cause that’s my fun day” But Mondays have to come. They are unavoidab

Today I climbed into my clothes on auto pilot  unaware of size or color or flair. My mind is elsewhere, slipped into a shadow, not wanting to take part in life currently. i’m just along for the ride. A passenger to my mind while at the wheel. This trip to nowhere is slow  and the grey scenery is  speckled with blue as we pass bits of me that i thought I wouldn't see again. It’s an awkward, familiar, comfort like driving by the sign welcoming me  to my home state. A heart pang then remembering there was a reason I left. A nod of the head with the knowledge I am only visiting for a short time. I recline my seat close my eyes and don't give a fuck where my mind takes me today. 10.27.2016  I wrote this poem after arriving at work today. I plopped down at my desk and thought about how I pretty much climbed in my clothes this morning and the next thing I knew I was at work! I was completely on auto pilot!  It's a

Chocolate, I love it!  These days dark chocolate. Day or night, morning or afternoon I'll eat it! I keep a stash at work and we have a stash at home. One brand I'm quite fond of is called Chocolove  out of Boulder, Colorado. Yes! Made in the U.S.A! I could give you a list of my other favorite brands of chocolate bars but I think that might be a longer blog post for another time! What I like so much about the Chocolove is their chocolate is smooth, wonderful and I like the squares it is divided into, easy to break, easy to eat! No this isn't a paid advert, hold on, I'm getting to the point! They have great packaging that makes it a good choice when gifting a bar to someone with the added bonus of a poem on the inside wrapper!  I believe my wife gave me my first bar, or did I give it to her? Anyway, I love to read the poems inside! Lately I've been craving chocolate at a higher rate than normal so I just finished up a bar of their RICH DARK  65%(so good) and it had a

Yesterday morning I was running a little late, which since we rescued Merlin the rabbit, it is my new normal. The pet situation is a blog post in and of itself! Suffice it to say I have a lot of waste management to take care of in the morning so getting out of the house on time has been a challenge for me! Ok, so like I said, I’m running late and I decide to hop on one of the local small buses that stops a block away from my house. They run along the same main routes that the New Jersey Transit buses travel in Jersey City. These little buses are owned by independent people so you never know what you are getting into when you climb aboard one. Some are well kept, clean and others are well, not so much. Sometimes to ride one is an adventure into the craziness of humanity but what public transportation isn’t? At least they travel consistently and it’s only $1.50 cash to get where I’m going. I can easily do the 15 minute walk to the train but when I’m running late the little bus is the way

Mystical Things that we want to believe like unicorns, fairies and creatures with wings. Magic unexplained, miracles abound, creatures that foot through woods and hardly make a sound. A howl through the silence, mist rising through leaves on trees, the smell of earth and root, branches moving with the breeze. Shooting stars in starry skies a boat horn heard on shore darkness as we turn off the light the sound of an old dog's snore. Truths and fables faith and imaginings we drift off in wonder and dream of what tomorrow brings. b.achenbach sept 5, 2016

I have a confession my friends. It's not so shocking but here it is, other people's hair freaks me out!  Now what I'm talking about is other people's hair in my personal space, in my food and attached to things I touch.  I think you probably get my drift?!  For example, at my job our client's work orders are attached to gold envelopes with masking tape and then are sent to us in production. We do the work, pack it in the envelope and off it goes back to customer service.  Sometimes I receive one and find a hair attached to the tape that's attached to the envelope. Well, it might as well be a bug or poop because I make a serious stink face and then proceed to remove the offensive hair ridden tape with the delicacy of a surgeon so as not to touch it!  It gets immediately tossed in the trash bin! I mean I don't go putting on latex gloves or anything!  I reserve the gloves for when there are two strands of hair! Plus I don't think it looks very professional

I sold myself to the darkness, flavorless and richless, they got less than a bargain. A pocket full of lint in a box with a bow. I wrote this in my journal on September 1, 2016 after a writing session about this undiagnosed pain I've been having since the beginning of May in my lower right abdomen.  I was feeling frustrated, down and damaged. Can you tell?