Dinnertime Blues

Staring at my cerulean-tinted ceiling as it faded into indigo then to black in a matter of minutes like God closing a curtain, I typed out a message for my brother before I got up and prepared for my first day of the night shift. Then, I heard the guffaw from across the hall. I was already seven posts deep in Instagram, divvying the funniest ones amongst my gaggle of male friends whose days I brightened with a barrage of memes. The text came back. Some what now? What was hard to understand? Why couldn't he--Oh. Peel some potatoes, not potitties.