Chapter Three is now posted. I wrote it this afternoon, looking out from the coffeeshop at the castle in the sun. I finished, walked home. When I was cozy inside, a thunderstorm rumbled over my little stone cottage and the rain resumed. It’s been raining a lot lately. I’m generally not fussed about the weather, but days and days of full-on rain gets annoying.
A few weeks ago, flatmatebestmate Patrick won a bunch of Starbucks swag at a jazz bar, and, since he’s someone who shoots up brews his coffee at home, he gave me all the coupons and gift-cards. So for several weeks now, I’ve been going to their coffeeshops to work. Normally I wrestle with the whole globalisation thing when trying to decide whether to go there or not, but they do know how to make a good space (except for their tendency to play their music too loud and to play Reggae; I hate Reggae).
I’ve been reworking my finances this week, and in budgeting for the future, one of the luxuries I want to afford myself is “office time” in coffeeshops. I really like working this way. It helps to get away from the house, and — I dunno, I guess it’s part of living the life. So that’s going in the budget. Not that it amounts to much, buying a tea a couple of times a week.
I’ve switched to chamomile tea, because I’ve realised I can’t drink coffee, I just can’t. It messes with my brain chemistry too much. The only problem is that every time I go to order it I forget the word “chamomile”. I don’t know why.
I also stumble over pronouncing “Strategic Coach” every other time I have to say it, even though I’ve been working with them for about nine years.