Caffeine: morning cup
Evil Calories: kickin' it old school with little wheat crackers with peanut butter and little chunks of dark chocolate
Reality TV: ANTM
For the past few weeks, my secret little spot has been the Starbucks cafe inside of Barnes & Noble. When you don't have the means to pull a proper Agatha Christie, you've got to take what you can get. I like it there for several reasons. They don't have power outlets, so it's rarely crowded (thank you, Sexy Beast, and your bad-ass eight hour battery), the cafe is gargantuan, so if it does get crowded, it never feels crowded. And lastly, they serve cheesecake. I don't ever order it, mind you. It just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy that they have it. Oh, and as an added bonus, the barista looks a little like Han Solo (if you can imagine Han in a green apron and bad shoes).
But there are odd things at my secret little spot as well. For instance, rival gangs of elderly canasta players. I'm telling you, one of these days the lady in the purple muu-muu with her wig on backwards is going to throw down with the woman in the green high-water polyester pants. It's only a matter of time. Then there's the dude in the Superman t-shirt who chews on his Starbucks cup. (I can't even make a joke about this one. It's just bizarre.) Lastly, the old dude who comes in every day at 2:00 to make phone calls. There are people in his life that need detailed accounts of his bowel activity. Apparently, smack in the middle of a Barnes & Noble cafe is the ideal place to relay this information.
Odd, paper cup eating dudes aside, I'm writing my ta-tas off. It's forced writing, which can be tricky. You know, the "I will finish this by next Wednesday or I'll tear my own arm off and beat myself to death with it" kind of writing. Sometimes my brain cooperates and sometimes I sound like I'm writing an episode of the Teletubbies. So much effort to make my writing seem effortless. My poor brain is going to need a serious spa day after this.