Cold Coffee

This morning, I drank a cup of cold coffee.

I got up at 4:30 am but had been starring at the clock since I went to sleep the night before. It was a sleepless night of tossing and turning and jumping from Facebook to Instagram and from there to YouTube. I was stuck in a vicious cycle all night, and by 4:30 am I gave up and decided that maybe starting my day early might be the only way to stop it.

I got up from bed, brushed my teeth, started to make my coffee, and checked my work emails while I waited for it to be done. These days I've been working from home, usually, during the holidays they make us do that. The offices are closed, but they still need us to answer random phone calls and the occasional email from clients. I work for a casting agency, I was supposed to be an actress, and now I'm just an assistant to a wannabe movie director in Los Angeles that treats me like a slave.

The coffee is starting to pour. The sound of it being made was my guilty pleasure. I love how coffee smells in the morning, like the promise of a new day. It makes me feel hopeful.

Ring, ring, ring…

My phone is basically yelling at me, someone is calling me way too early in the day. It was my boss calling me to let me know that I needed to contact two of our clients today to let them know they got the final call for the television shows they had auditioned for. How I dream that one day my agent sends her assistant to say the words I'm going to deliver to someone else. Always to someone else.

Suddenly the coffee maker makes the glorious sound that my coffee is made. Yes! My coffee is ready, and I can, for at least five minutes, relax. I've been going to auditions nonstop and still no callbacks. I really wish someone would just call me once. The only person that calls me is my mother to tell me that I should move back home and give up my dream of being a star. I really wish I could prove her wrong, but as the months, years pass, I can't help but think that she might be right.

I grab my favorite cup, put three sugars in it, and pour my coffee inside of it. The smell of hot coffee floods the room, and as I'm about to take a sip, I hear a ding coming from my phone. I abandon my cup and walk towards my phone. I look for the source that created that sound, and it was my email inbox. I had a new message, I proceed to open it, hopeful that it might be good news from any of my auditions. It wasn't good news. My agent sent me an email saying that she was no longer going to work with me and that my acting was just horrible.

"- How dare she?!" – I screamed and accidentally wake up the neighbor's dog. He started to bark really loud; the sound was drowning me.

I immediately dial my agent's phone number and no answer. I try a second, third, fourth time, and nothing. I scream at the ceiling in frustration, and the dog barks even louder. I try calling my agent one last time. Nothing.

As a tear is falling down my cheek, I contemplate doing what my mother has said way too many times, I thought about going home. The thought of it brings more tears. Abruptly, I remember the only thing that cheers me up, my hot coffee. I grabbed my coffee cup, longing for the warmth of my coffee to lift my spirits. Unfortunately, that was not the case. And that sour and bitter morning, I drank a cup of cold coffee.