life and coffee houses

Here's a post from my new blog! Enjoy :)

I am stuck in a rut, unable to conjure the words, unwilling to submit my mind solely to writing for one class, or studying for one exam, or preparing for one presentation. The walls that inclose me in my small place usually allows me to organize my thoughts better, to compartmentalize them to fit neatly into the space I have. But I have barely enough room to flip a pancake without bumping my elbow into the sink faucet, let alone organize my each and every worry, let alone lay out the load of school work I have for the week, let alone fold and make compact all of my belongings. Sometimes, no amount of planning or organizing can get me in the mood for homework, or make me feel free of the storm of responsibilities raining on my life.

Pay bills, stop bills, move out, move in, pack, unpack, backpack full, backpack emptied on the desk the floor the bed, sleep three hours maybe four, backpack back partially packed with my mind packed of information to gather-remember-regurgitate-write-rewrite for class, class then work, work then homework, homework then sleep, packing and unpacking and packing and unpacking and packing again. And then, when I have dealt with the happenings of today, I unpack my thoughts about the future, give them a moment, give them some respect and tears and admit my fear of the years ahead, and then I pack them back up. Start again. 

And where is my release from this rain? Where is the umbrella that keeps me dry, lets me hear the pitter-patter of life, but shields me from the pangs of the tear, I mean rain, drops? 

I've found a release, my friends, I've found a release in coffee houses. It is here that I can produce as a student, a thinker, a human. 

It's not just the caffeine, though the bitterly dark and smoothly hot drink does lull me so. Rather, it's the hum of the espresso grinder, the softness of the eclectic music, the smell of the coffee bean and the hue of the lighting. The atmosphere, the looks of contemplation, the hugs from old friends. Here I can focus my energy on one project and then the next, here I am free to think.

This is my happy place; somehow it makes me feel like I can handle, at least partially, what it is that I need to do. Call me crazy, but when I make it through life's current messes and move onto the next set of messes, I will thank (at least in part) my various coffee places. Then I will pack up, and with coffee in hand, start again.