Vodka Plus Essays Poem by anais vionet

Please Pogo music, wake me up. The night, now reduced to warm laptop light, is inching toward dawn. I pray to the patron saints of writers - is it Neri or Ávila? Whichever is on call I suppose.

'I've indulged in reprobation, ' I confess, openly to the fuzzy, waxing, crescent moon. 'I need that alchemy that turns coffee and a rough outline into an actual paper.'

I yank off my hoodie, fling my window open wide and hang myself out like wet laundry. Have you ever tasted vodka? Vile stuff really.
The forty degree breeze feels like heaven and my eyes begin to focus. I peel off my leggings to let my entire skin tingle with cold.

My Keurig beeps confidently. I found a couple of peanut energy bars in my bookbag and rip them open like a junkie who's discovered a forgotten stash. I devour them so quickly it's like a magic trick - then I brush my teeth.

I take several slow deep breaths. I can DO this, I assure myself, but my outline looks adequate at best. I need this done so I can relax with a super bowl party pizza Sunday.

The song 'Data & Picard, ' sets me to dancing, 'It's better to have loved and lost..' Patrick Stewart as Jean-Luc Picard pronounces, perfectly auto-tuned to the music.

I love this song. I love the night. I love the challenge.
I set myself to the task and finish, three hours later, as the sun breaks into morning.