Thursday, 6 January 2011

can't wait to smell that paint

sooo, it was my lunch hour and i'd just stumbled into costa coffee...
it was really snuggly and cosy and warm and just so perfect for curling up on their oh-so-squishy sofa's with a good book such as Juliet, naked. i stood staring at the fruit and oat biscuits, and then the ginger biscuits before concluding that the 6th of january was far too soon to break my 'must eat less sugar' resolution.
i walked on and then stopped when i reached the counter, smiling weakly at the man behind the counter.
man behind the counter- "hello! how are you today?" 
(i now like to think of myself as a 'regular', or 'a local', i have a costa card that lets me collect points and the guy behind the counter knows my order so i don't have to tell him, i'm pretty sure all that addsup to the title of 'a regular'.)
me- "i'm good thank you," nodding my head and glancing at the board, which as we've established is a pointless gesture, i know it, we know it, the guy behind the counter knows it. "how are you?"
man behind the counter- "yeah i'm well," he smiles before tapping on the till screen. "the usual?"
me- "yes, yes please," another pointless glance at board.
man behind the counter- "large americano with soya milk?"
me- "yes."
man behind the counter (even though i call myself a local i still don't know the man behind the counter's name, i mean what kind of local am i? ok, for my own sanity we'll call him frank.
frank- "had a good day?"
me- "yeah, yeah, bit tired today though."
frank- "tired? whys that then?"
me- "i've worked3days in a row this week."
frank- "what?!" he then proceeds to tell the girl clearing plates on the nearby table what i just said. the girl clearing plates laughs and waves her hand at me in a 'oh you're so funny' gesture.
it was at this moment that i realised i'm really not cut out for 'proper work'. 3days serving at a stationers and i'm wiped out, completely dead on my feet and the costa people think thats funny, or maybe they thought i was joking, because, lets be honest, 3days of work isn't really that much.
i didn't have the heart to tell them that my 3days of work was my complete working week. instead i informed them of certain facts about france and how much french people work.

so, that brings us back to the present. my little lightbulb moment in costa is part of the reason i'm very much looking forward to tomorrow; an entire day of squirrelling myself away with a stack of paint, ink and a shed load of paper...proper 'work' worth doing. 
much love

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