Nowhere to sit at Peet’s.  Well, I guess Is could have sat in on of those singular leather chairs, but I’m too self-conscious and paranoid people are looking at my screen.

Here ini the tasting room early.  Quiet… just what this writer needs.  No music—  But now that I think, yes music.  Something relaxing.  Tycho, obviously.

After a little not-remembering-my-password drama, “Awake”.

Clocked in.  Tables first—  Oh shit, I have a group at 11.  UGH…

There, ready.  Not really in mood to “host” people, pour.  Not letting some people into head… and on that note….