Of Coffee & Coyotes

I woke up with visions of coyote camping romping through my head. I know, it's still a month away, but I'm constantly excited about my trip, and every small bit of planning and preparation only serves to throw another log on my fire/conflagration. So this morning, in anticipation of chilly autumn sun-ups spent somewhere in the wilds of Wyoming, I practiced my drip coffee-making skills. Or rather, I attempted to perfect them.

I have been making drip coffee ever since I got laid off from my job. That's when the purse strings got just a teensie-weensie bit tighter. At first, I downgraded from a large mocha to a double latte, then from double latte to single latte, and finally ended up scrounging nickels and dimes for a plain ol' cup of joe (no room for cream, please). Somehow a month or two ago, that paltry $1.75 I was doling out for my daily 12 oz. of bitter black juice just didn't seem so economical anymore, and I bid my cafe on the corner adieu. You know, a home brew isn't that bad when its backed it up with a breakfast of yogurt and fruit and high fiber cereal. The sweetness of the fruit masks the bitterness of the coffee and the creaminess of the yogurt seems to cut its caustic acidity just a bit. Who knows what the cereal does, other than make my gut gurgle. *burp* I call it California cuisine on a budget. Especially since the yogurt and fruit come from Trader Joe's via a 1.5 mile bike ride through San Francisco central.

Speaking of which, on one shopping trip I managed to shove not 1, not 2, but 6 (!) bottles of wine, a large loaf of Grace Baking kalamata olive bread, 2 M&M's-coated sugar cookies, and a handful of personal effects into my trusty old North Face backpack. How could I resist? They offer an extra 10% off with a 6 bottle purchase, and the discomfort of a weighed-down and wobbly bike ride home didn't seem like such a bad price to pay for an extra $8 in my pocket. The economies of the unemployed wine enthusiast will boggle any sane person's mind. Did I mention that I work in the wine industry?

My tendency towards coyote-ness has definitely increased since the day of the lay-off. I sort of saw it all coming, had already accepted that I had jumped from one sinking ship of a job to another and now had to take a hard look at where I'd been and where I was going. That's the trouble with hitching your star to a start-up, you never know if what you've landed on is a burly battleship or a rickety rig better left as barnacle bait. I chose the latter, and this wasn't the first time. Now I'm bobbing along on the life raft of the US Government, thanks to being laid off rather than quitting or being fired. After a few days of disappointment and a sharp twinge of disgrace, I looked up and realized, "hey, this isn't too bad . . . I'm not only going to make it, but I'm going to make an experience out of all this." And that's when the concept of The Quest for Coyote Karma was born. It's an experiment in creativity and an altered sense of consciousness for me, as well as a coping mechanism to get me through life's little windfalls without want or regret. A coyote would weather this all out with a tongue-lolling smile and a wag of the tail, and I certainly will too.