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….