Soup for a Headache

On the other side of the street a huge girl is leaning out the window of her apartment on the third floor. It's above a shady-looking pharmacy, where nobody ever buys anything. The girl is on the phone and I wonder what she's saying. She's probably complaining about something unimportant. I just say that, because I once read in an article that overweighed people are more likely to complain about things that don't concern them. I wouldn't know if that's true, though. 

If you ask me, I think people in general - no matter what their bmi says - like to complain. Some more than others, and I know I do it a lot. Especially these days. I don't know, sometimes shit just pisses me off. Last year I had a really good run thinking positive, and I mean really good good good. And then came winter and things started to climb downhill. Man, I hate to dwell in that pool of self-proclaimed misery, and I hate even more to write about it. 

So I'm going to tell you about a good thing that happened to me recently. I went to a café the other day and got free soup. Seriously. I walked in, ordered coffee, and then the guy asked me if I would like some free soup, tomato paprika. And how often does that happen? Exactly, almost never. So, that was good. Except. That day I had a lot of stuff on my mind and I tried to jot it down. I had a brand new notebook and a nice pen. And then I sat there, for almost an hour, unable to write down a single word.

The first page of my fresh notebook was screaming at me like white noise on a television screen. It was driving me crazy. I wanted to get rid of it, turn off the TV, but I couldn't find the remote control. I knew it was there, just like I knew that there was a good first sentence, but I couldn't find it. And the longer I looked at the empty lines, the more I felt like a prisoner behind bars. That day I left the café with a vicious headache. But hey, at least I got some free soup, right? And that happens almost never.