Every weekday afternoonat 3 o’clockthe day becomes so

heavy

though its balance is far past the tipping pointthe last few hourslooming aheadare somewhat overwhelming and I just get so

tired.

I make a cup of caffeine free teawhich perks me up becausethe water is just fartoo hot

then back to work withwistful sighs forsimpler times whencomplex afternoonswere met with mats and window shades.

I miss napsso much morethan i miss youth(which was exhausting)every dayat 3 o’clockwe’d all lay downand close our eyesfor just a minute

maybe 20

did we appreciate this?no.we didn’twe were foolish childrenunawareunable to anticipatethe wearinessof every dayas grown-ups

and we wasted so muchtime we could haveclosed our eyes– for just a minute.

I’ve never enjoyed sleepingall that muchsleep’s not that into memy mind transformsinto a loudunconscious sketchpadworking out the day ahead

but napswell nestled in the chaoswere a keen respitefrom conscious mayhem

and when you woke upthere was juicefrom plastic jugswith colors neon brightin paper cupsa liquid sweetness never matchedby the finest winesavailable to humanity

I never liked the cookiesthey were always dryunsatisfyingcookies should be warm

but the juice and naps were golden

that’s what I am thinking ofeach weekday afternoonbehind my deskwith too hot tea

at 3 o’clock.

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