2:28pm, back from lunch and starting a new conversation. Now back at the Farmers sbux sipping a tall medium roast. Day easing into its close, kind of. No idea what to do, just scrolling through feeds, emailed students telling them I posted to the blog and they react for some credit. Now what? Moving slow, even with the effective etch of this coffee.
Call later, around 5 I think.
One of the baristas leaves, his shift over. “Bye guys…” he says loud enough for me to hear through this LoFi track. Wonder where he’s going, what he’s going to do now that his day is done. Wonder what I’m going to do… what am I doing now. Message to one human, then another. Doing anything to distract myself. Maybe a drive now… Or go back to Barnes & Noble… write in Glad Freedom, the new Composition Book. Didn’t finish the spoken work track I started on Sunday. Still have two verses to go.
2:44 and I’m already wanting to leave, and not the rest of this coffee. Then I have an idea… leaving page to explore it, see how it shapes and takes.
2:59, yes I’m done. Reached out to some people to start conversations, followed up on an email and—shit, have to write one more. Then I’m bouncing. People in and out, when the door opens I feel a draft from outside, like a rough draft not a breeze, nothing finished the light wind reminds me…. Final draft is HOURS away.
Not letting self leave till 4. Fuck it. See what happens. Conversation-wise, or creatively, observationally.. this is when the magic of the meta is most noted. Kid changing garbage, no apron… must be at end of his shift too.
Another barista out door, taste of outside. Then another.