The green blinking eye turned angry red this morning, leaving in it's wake a dead modem and Internet orphan. I'm left (at least for the next 24 hours) to stalking coffee shops and Panera Bread. My gym has free WiFi.
Actually, wandering has been good for my work at home soul. It meant buttoning and zipping into big girl pants (ones with a waist) and dusting on a bit of makeup. The Caribou Coffee offered $1 breakfast pastries with my large java; I have an oatmeal-walnut-choco-cookie lovely in my belly. There's mostly female indy-folk wafting overhead (I recognize the Kate Nash playing right now).
There's a perfectly tall and dark-haired gent who just folded into one of the deep leather chairs to my left, in front of the fire. Said he'd share the footstool with me. He's outside now talking on a cell phone. A high and tight rear view. I wonder if I'll be brave enough to do anything with this.
Goodness I like being out with the In Real Life (IRL) people. Been feeling a bit passed by lately. According to my inbox, the Internet missed me little; I Jonesed in a much greater capacity for it. If only my life with the flesh and boners was as full bodied as the ones and zeros existence I think I have. Something to work on.
I've been here two hours working. An older gent sitting to the front of my tiny table and younger girl with a cute page boy were here when I got here. No need to skedaddle just yet.
Where is high and tight?