It’s Tuesday, September 2, no longer summertime. With a deep and overwhelming desire to get as much writing done before work as is humanly possible (for me, a slow-moving human), I have vacated my new favorite café and returned to the coffee chain near the good subway stop. It feels like I’m going backwards a little. I’m not sure how I feel about being here yet. Your environment can really affect your writing.

Now that I am back at the old place, I found:

• The gang of young trannies is nowhere to be seen, so of course I wonder about them. Hope they’re okay.
• No one is sleeping at any of the good tables by the outlets, a complaint that helped run me out of here before.
• Everyone behind the counter is noticeably nicer than at the other café. They remembered my name. And my drink. And it was ready for me right away.
• Though it’s not as good. The other café has better mochas—no comparison. This is so sweet. I forgot how sweet it is.
• I had my coffee and was set up at a table within three minutes. At the other café I have to wait while they slowly make the drink (but I tell you: worth it).
• But, in here, I am not supporting a locally owned business or drinking local organic milk or… well, let’s just say the other place is much cooler.
• Better music there too.
• (But this place is actually slightly cheaper.)

What does it matter whose chocolate foamy drink is better? I sit right now a three-minute walk (tops) from the express subway stop. On a good day, work is fifteen minutes away, door to door. Time is what I’m after. For now, I’m making small, concentrated choices to gain more time. Soon enough, the decisions will have to be much larger.

Back to the chapter I’m writing. Hope your writing spots treat you well.

p.s. I can still go to my new favorite café on weekends 🙂