Chagachino

Hidden Meanings?

I told a stranger that my dog was the Bushwick healer. I told another stranger that my dog was bilingual because he could speak the universal language of love. I told another stranger that he was a German shepherd bobblehead. I walk home and smile thinking of all the interactions that you can have in just a fleeting thirty minutes. I look at every single tree and try to find hidden meanings. I look at every single book and I wish I could consume them all at once, all at the same time. 

The trees tell me the same boring thing every time.  “You would die without me.” Yes, I know. My head full of hot air will take me to space if I’m not careful. I look at my feet, I imagine roots covering my shoes. I lock in so I can keep moving. “I wish there were hummingbirds in New York City,” I told my boyfriend. “You say that every day.” He responds. I apprehensively started the day this morning. All I knew was that I had a deep yearning for a toasted sesame bagel with cream cheese like I always do. I was especially struggling this morning because I was grieving the loss of my ADHD medication that worked for me mentally but not physically. I started taking a new medication five days ago and on the third day, I did anything but rise again. I fell hard. On the third day, it triggered an eleven-hour stomach ache that made me feel like I was Kate Goslin before she gave birth to sextuplets. I had to stop taking the medication which means that I'm feening for focus any way I can find it.

I bring this energy when I enter the cafe where I will be promptly ordering a sesame bagel. I try to scan the menu as fast as my eyes can find anything on it that can offer me energy and hope. At last, I saw something called a chagachino. It’s a mushroom powder cappuccino that offers focus, energy, and clarity. The three things that I am desperately searching for and the names of my future children. Since I was recovering from my allergic reaction to my meds I thought that I needed an extra kick. I’m breathing down the barista's neck with bloodshot eyes and I say: “COULD WE ADD MATCHA TO THE CHAGACHINO?” and she nearly passes out from shock that I asked for such a ludicrous request. She takes a second to think about if it’s possible and says: “It’s never been done before but we could try it.” She then pulled out a pre-mixed bag that said “chaga matcha” It felt like I was in The Matrix as this silly idea went from a thought to being in my physical reality in an instant. “Wow, the chagachino is already working,” I tell my perfect corgi who is the one thing that can always keep me at peace in my matrix of chaos.