The night before I fell asleep, and felt like a few dreamless minutes had passed before I woke up, like almost no time had passed. I didn’t feel rested, just like a day was continuing endlessly.
At work that night I felt more tired than I usually do. My work is straight forward, but every now and then we have a project that is equal parts tedious, frustrating and nothing quite goes right. I was working a late shift, it was close to 5pm but I was still vaguely tempted by the horrific giant cans of Monster or Rockstar Energy drink in the vending machine. I am all for a bit of caffeine but those things are a combination of so many odd chemicals your guts don’t quite know what hit them. I opted to just gaze at their abstract beauty through the safety of the clear perspex, then headed back to my desk to finish my shift. Close to the end of my shift I received a text with my shifts to confirm for next week. They were unusually long days, 11.30-8.30, and 3 days after that were 12.30-8.30. My subconscious started calculating in the depths of the background of my mind. Buried somewhere was a comforting thought, that without fail I always stop on my way through to work to grab a barista made coffee, a strong one, an iced long black. It almost always carried me through with energy levels just high enough to survive whatever day lag before me.
That night I let my head hit the pillow and experience the following dream:
I stand adrift in a Starbucks queue. It was a Starbucks I knew. There are multiple stores I visit depending which one I’m coming past on different days. This was all of them, and it was none of them all at once. It was a dream after all, the important content felt as real as a cold ice filled plastic cup that was really in my hand. The details luminous in between, making more sense than they should (given the fluidity that this looped universe seemed to have).
The main part of the dream was the conversation I was having with the barista concerning my usual order: A Venti sized Iced Long Black. I was within the decision-making process on how to say my order, many variations spinning in and out of view, most important was the question of how many shots this intense drink actually had. In truth it already had a monstrous amount, a Venti Iced long black is assumed to contain 4 shots already.
It suddenly seemed necessary to go ahead and request it as
“A Venti Iced Long Black, with 2 raw sugars, and an extra shot please. Being sure to clarify that yes, I actually wanted 5 shots of coffee. That is what I’m asking for, that’s what I want to happen to me. A multiverse of baristas assuring me some customers ask for much worse, this is fine, that they are not in the least bit surprised, if I need 5 shots today then they totally understand.
The conversation unravels in and out of view perpetually.
I order the coffee. I walk away with a cardboard cup holder shielding the cold, Icey handful. I take a sip as I am in transit. I am on my way somewhere. Heading towards my long workday I guess. I wander, the world bustles, and a day seems pass. I find myself in the Starbucks queue again. My place in the queue renewed, the conversation ready to begin again. Yes of course. 5 shots IS the perfect amount for YOU. This is what you’ve needed all along, it’s quite vital you remember this always. 4 shots have always been there, but today you are going to order 5. When you have finished sipping that cold drink, when it’s done, you will have consumed five whole shots of this nectar of the gods. There’s nothing you won’t be able to do, nothing you won’t be able to see. And just as I had another cup in my grasp, as I began to explore, traverse the world again, another pleasant day seemed to have passed.
Once again, I felt I was at a doorway, at the precipice of a conversation. A conversation I was getting used to. A conversation about how today, and every-day. I would like exactly 5 shots of coffee in my iced long black. I have never been more certain of anything in my life.
I woke from the dream, feeling so refreshed and alive with the ideas within it, it was as if I’d consumed all the coffees from my dreams through some kind of osmosis. My heart fluttering just a bit as my brain calculated when I would next be within striking distance of a real cafe, where this fateful conversation could actually take place.
“Soon.” I thought to myself. “sometime very soon.”