moist, warm, sugary-flavored coffee air
(a 500 word post)
Almost every Saturday morning, the spouselet drops me off at a local coffee shop (heine brothers) while he meets with a group of guy friends. This is the time I spend working on a few things for my “week job” (the full time gig that pays the bills) that I cannot do during the week.
I could finish them both up on Friday night after all the locations are done inputting data for the week, but it is just easier to do it Saturday morning, where I know I will be alone and it is peaceful. It isn’t always quiet.
I feel like I get more accomplished in that one and a half hour than I do most of the week.
There are no interruptions.
There isn’t a copier/printer to unstick.
There isn’t an email issue to resolve.
No one at the coffee shop asks me to fix the side way images emailed to them.
My kid isn’t up yet to start asking me questions for the day.
No one but my husband knows where I am for almost TWO FULL HOURS. It’s a mini-vacay, every week.
This morning, he was going to drop me at a different coffee shop but, as soon as we walked in the door I couldn’t stand it. It was warm and wet (or maybe stuffy) and it smelled like flavored coffee, sweet. I thought if I set up in the back away from the roasters and machines I would be cooler, fresher. Nope.
I had to cut and run before we even ordered.
The thought of sitting in that place for more than an hour was suffocating.
I sometimes get the feeling that I am a little more neurotic than the average bear. I might rate right up there with Woody Allen and David Sedaris on the “interesting” scale. (Hopefully more David and less Woody). The options are, I am neurotic or the spouselet is on the spectrum (asperger’s)-maybe a combination of both. Things just don’t bother him. He NEVER walks into a place and has to leave because the smells suffocate him. I don’t think he is affected by moist warm air either.
Moist, warm, sugary-flavored coffee air.
Honestly, just typing it makes my stomach queasy and I have to get more water.
Luckily, he is used to me being weird about these things- he only occasionally wants to get in the car and leave me behind once or twice a year. Today would have been one of those days if he didn’t have time to have his morning java because I can’t stand moist, warm, sugary-flavored coffee air.
Thankfully, we were still really close to Heine Brothers and he had time to get good coffee and relax before he had to rush off to see his friends.
I was not about to mention my iced tea tasting like coffee grounds until he picked me up at noon.