Writing

Simple pleasures

Special Agent Dale Cooper is a very wise man, in a strange sorta way. The strange sorta way that involves solving cases with thrown stones and tin cans, and having curious, backward talking dreams. He also said one of my most favorite quotes. One that I forget to live up to each day, because heck, I’m just too damn busy to slow down and do it. But here it is all the same.

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Every day, once a day, give yourself a present. Don’t plan it, don’t wait for it, just let it happen. Could be a new shirt at the men’s store, a catnap in your office chair, or two cups of good, hot, black coffee.”

I knew today was going to be a shit of a day. Thankfully, a patron last night explained to me that mid life crisis’ don’t hit until mid 40s, not 30s. So it’s not that. It’s probably just the heated drudgery of work, and most likely the mid week jitters. But whatever it was, I just wasn’t up to writing (sure, that was the point all along, wasn’t it? Just building up to an excuse). So I didn’t.

I coulda used meeting up with a mate for lunch, but instead headed along to Starbucks. The problem with relocating a lot (that’s another story, and not half as exciting as one might hope) and being an Aries is that I ain’t yet got a bunch of new mates yet, but Starbucks was the next best thing. Mostly because it used to be a place in Auckland where I did meet up with mates.

The smell of coffee, that special sort of Starbucks coffee. That sameness about the place, that is the same no matter what Starbucks (or Esquires) I go into. I curled up on the nearest free big comfy chair with an ice cold frappachino and a copy of The Drawing of the Three. Ah, greatly engaged I was. Pity my lunch break was only 30 minutes long.

I need to get back into the writing tomorrow, of course. Maybe it will help that tomorrow is Thursday. One day closer to the end of the week.

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