At least it's a different coffee shop, right?
I don't know why it matters.
I mean, it doesn't... not really. But I still came here instead of going back to the other place where I just wrapped up 365 consecutive days of publishing this column for the MAP Year Project. I'll be back over there soon; just not yet.
Besides, I like it here, too.
Looking around, past the couches in the middle of the room toward the brick wall on the far side, I'm seeing a few folks with laptops. Mine's on the table in front of me, but it's closed. My eyes drift from the pastries behind the display at the counter to the array of flyers tacked up along the opposite wall. Finally, they settle on the small lamp on my own table in the corner. It's nothing special, but I'm reminded of this green one that my great grandmother used to have. A banker's lamp. It ended up in my room when I was growing up and I used to stare at it with dread late at night while fighting my way through the homework I never seemed to finish.
I feel the corners of my mouth twitch. With a short inhale, I pull my book and my notebook from my bag and place them by my laptop on the table.
Today's a big day; new notebook day. Completing the MAP Year meant labeling the spine of the one I'd been using throughout and retiring it. So I slide my new orange notebook with the dot-grid pages toward me, uncap my pen, and then... hesitate.
I can hear Two Of Us by The Beatles playing over the speakers but not much else. No one's walking around and nobody's ordering at the counter. Everyone's at their tables locked into whatever they're working on. With a smirk, I take another sip of coffee. The lamp in front of me isn't throwing heat like that old green one would, though.
Same same, but different.
Good.
I open the notebook to the first blank page, and start by writing today's date.
onward.
For more on this daily column, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.