Unstuck in Time
Quick operational note: I will not have wireless access in the house for the next while, so some of these posts will be chronologically not-in-place. (Any, uh, historians out there reconstructing my day to day life, be particularly forewarned.) If I feel like writing something at night, the resultant post lives on my laptop till I find time to hit a coffee shop.
The wireless is not in the house because, after some deliberation, my roommates and I decided it wasn't worth paying for a half-month that would be billed after we moved out. (Okay, so, technically, there was no deliberation, and only the roommate who owns the account made the decision. But, the less I think about this, I find, the less it bothers me. I'll be okay.)
The coffee shop is just off Orange St. close to downtown, with the quizzically Teutonic name "Koffee?" Plenty pleasant; works for me. The phrase "Small Iced Coffee, Room for Milk" is becoming quite the staple of my verbal repertoire of late, by the way. Gets one through the morning at work too.
The wireless is not in the house because, after some deliberation, my roommates and I decided it wasn't worth paying for a half-month that would be billed after we moved out. (Okay, so, technically, there was no deliberation, and only the roommate who owns the account made the decision. But, the less I think about this, I find, the less it bothers me. I'll be okay.)
The coffee shop is just off Orange St. close to downtown, with the quizzically Teutonic name "Koffee?" Plenty pleasant; works for me. The phrase "Small Iced Coffee, Room for Milk" is becoming quite the staple of my verbal repertoire of late, by the way. Gets one through the morning at work too.
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