Orange juice for one

Orange Juice for One

                   The hot shower had felt good and helped unstiffen muscles and loosen joints. All the unpacking was finished and he thought he could begin the settling in process. After putting on some sweats, he poured himself the last two fingers of Jameson in a tumbler, threw a Sinatra CD into the player, and plopped into his favorite chair. He was glad she let him take the chair with him. It was comfortable and well worn. She had never liked it and was glad to be rid of it, amongst other things. He lit a cigarette and watched the smoke climb to the ceiling and be pushed around by the draft from the top of the open window. Sinking into the chair, staring at the smoke and ceiling, his thoughts turned to what he was going to do now. He thought it was like being trapped on an emotional rollercoaster, ping ponging between that mood indigo and the mean reds. He had never lived alone before. He had gone straight from his parents' house to domestic life with his now ex-wife. He sat wondering, a little nervous, a little scared, staring into space, unsure of what the future had in store. He worried about his kids. He thought about how it use to be, during the hungry years, when all they had was what they needed. He smiles remembering keeping the food on the fire escape when the refrigerator broke down, and the time she literally painted herself into the corner. All they had was hopes and dreams, and that seemed to be enough. That was before the babies came along.
                   He looked what was now his new home. Four walls, two windows, kitchen area, and a bathroom. He started to calculate what it would take to make ends meet. Making the nut each month plus child support would leave little for the other things he use to do. The Bank of Dad was not going to be what it used to be either. He hoped the kids would be too disappointed and resentful and think he was a loser. New games, the trendiest jackets, and Jordans would be things of the past for the most part. He still had to get pots and pans, and dishes, and towels and all the other things that are necessities. The Dollar Store and the Goodwill will be getting most of his business for a while
                   The Jameson was starting to take effect and he began to fell sleepy. Closing his eyes, sinking deeper into the chair, he wanted to find peace in sleep. This whole ordeal had made sleeping difficult if not impossible. With all the unpacking done, he thought he could get some well-earned rest. He forgot about the cigarette he was holding and only remember when it burned his fingers, waking him with a start. Snuffing it out he felt wide-awake again. Another sleepless night.
                   He wanted to pour himself another drink hoping it would knock him out, but the bottle was empty. He realized it was the second one he had gone through in just over a week. Cannot let this turn into a habit, he thought. He thought the same about the cigarettes, having smoked just about a whole carton in less than a week.
                   He told himself he would start cleaning up his act and getting it together starting tomorrow. He got up out of the chair and went to the window. Looking out he could see tomorrow was already here as the faint glow of a rising sun was pushing the night sky over the horizon. He decided he would go shopping today for all the stuff he needed for the house. He would make a fresh new start and stop self-medicating with the Jameson and cigarettes. He would learn to deal with that mood indigo and the mean reds like a big boy should.
                   No longer feeling sleepy, he decided to get dressed and start the day by going to the diner, the one near Caesar's Bay, on the way to the discount stores to get what he needed. He would sit at a booth and order a big breakfast. He would tell the waitress he would be dining alone and that she could bring Orange Juice for one.