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Where nobody knows your name

Apr 26

READ IN APP

a drawing of a cafe where a man sits at a table with a laptop, writing a story

The clock is ticking towards 1am again. I'm not entirely sure how this keeps happening. I'm sitting in bed listening to a strangely relaxing ambient jazz cafe playlist on Spotify.

I'm tapping away on the keyboard of a Chromebook that's propped on my legs - running a writing app in "dark mode".

I don't seem to have much to report. I'm not going to let that stop me. Just as nature abhors a vacuum, perhaps a blog abhors silence. If only I could channel Norah Ephron for a few minutes and "exhale".

I'll try.

I sometimes wish I had the addictive tendencies that so many seem to have.

The only reason I run is because it seems like I should at least do *something*, and is far less hassle than trudging to the gym and pretending to be "all that" on a cycling or running machine. I can just pull on some shoes and an old t-shirt and head out for a while. Sure, I typically feel like crap while running, but know I'll feel better for having done it.

I feel over-stretched at the moment, but can't really complain because most of it is my own doing. When not working or running, I'm invariably either doing chores, creating content for Youtube, or writing forgettable blog posts in the dead of night.

I'm also going stir crazy. I've been trying to escape the house all week to work from a nearby cafe but haven't made it. Perhaps tomorrow. I've been saying "perhaps tomorrow" all week.

Maybe I should go for a complete change of scenery - wander down to Starbucks or Costa and camp out at one of their tables for a couple of hours? While the cafe where my daughters work is lovely, the staff all known me - and that kind of does my head in sometimes.

It seems oddly paradoxical to yearn for the opposite of Cheers - a place where nobody knows your name - where there are no expectations or obligations. No making of conversation. No asking after each other.