Iced (you'd better believe it!) Decaf Americano and peanut butter cookie? Check.
College-aged couple next to me, deep in symbiosis with a "Transport Modeling for Environmental Engineers and Scientists" textbook? Check.
College-aged lanky male youth behind me, in zipper-front sweater with cappuccino, lounging on a couch, pontificating about Wes Anderson movies loudly enough for entire cafe clientele, perhaps to impress his pretty young date, also with cappuccino, who to her credit is giving him encouraging glances? Check.
(There are about 20 more such couples around me. It is Tufts-land up here, after all.)
Checklist of tasks I came here with the supposed fortitude to complete that is not getting completed because I'm weary and my coffee is decaf and already gone and I would instead rather check Facebook every 7 minutes or be distracted by the most excellent Salon Sex column (today: "How Not to Make Love Like a Porn Star") or go onto OKC and see if the guy (37, actually single, a socially-conscious writer whose "most private thing I’m willing to admit here" is that he "walked away from a fight in the fourth grade, and missed my chance to be in the popular crowd") who I favorited on Friday will re-view my profile a third time, and generally acting like a procrastinating college student when, damn damn damn, I should be more responsible and stop leaning on these endless run-on sentences to fill out blog entries and instead finish my list of church council and music director and parents-are-coming-to-visit-in-2-weeks-and-I-must-find-a-B&B-in-Vermont duties so I can go grocery shopping and make chicken and lentil soup and fold the laundry and still get to bed by midnight so that I can stay rested and on-task this week, much unlike last week's meltdown, and because wow, I am getting way sick of Wes Anderson-pontificating college student's pontificating and it's already after 9....
Check.
1 comment:
put your B and B need on your facebook status, you'll have suggestions in minutes.
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