Nobody said.

Just got in from the radio.
I ended up working an extra hour and a half tonight for Steve.
A coworker didn't show up for her shift. I felt bad for said coworker, she's been doing pretty well, but she'd been trying to swap away this shift all day. And when she couldnt swap it, she forgot to show up. Yikes, kids. Don't do that!

So I showed up for a cappuccino and ended up behind the counter. Somehow at Natas this is fine for me, whereas at the Spill it was annoying as all hell.

I worked all morning and slept all afternoon. Woke up feeling lonely. Hate that. Stopped in on the boys, but they were feeling particularly madly in love with each other, so I went home. Then I went to work again.

And now, post-radio, I am awake. Five-hour midday naps do not bode well for decent bedtimes. I figure it's worth a shot though.

Shoe in.

Good god, my feet are killing me.

I always think I can manage a day at the cafe in cute shoes.
It's a lie, a dirty-no-good lie. The best I can pull off is a pair of Converse sneakers... other than that it's just a pair of frumpy cross trainers.

Today's shoe culprit? The ever-so-cute Doc Marten mary janes. Mary Jane, she'll get you every time.
Sunday's culprit? The innocent on the outside, evil on the inside, teeny polkadot flats. Guh.

On the other hand, pain is pretty ladies!

Early-ish shift today. 7:00 to 3:00 allllllll by my lonesome on that gorgeous espresso machine. I can get up early for that Elektra machine. Yes sir I can.

I've got to post some pics of my cappucinos, they're looking pretty sweet these days.

the laziest of sundays.

I feel like I had a sabbath today.
I slept through church. This is my first sunday off in two months.
I have work to do. But I don't want to spoil the do-nothing bliss I had today. I just read a book in Dahn's apartment all day. Finished it too.

Our apartments are cold now.

The sudden drop in temperature is easily felt in lofts with huge and ancient windows. I'm layered and wearing a toque and finger-gloves.

I should put in some hours on the 'zine for Trent Radio. I'll probably do it next door. Sometimes I just want to be in the presence of others. Doing my own thing, but in the warmth of people who like me. Regardless of the scarves and sweaters we're wrapped in against the cold. My fireplace works, but I've been reluctant to keep it on. It makes my apartment dry and sort of smoky from burning dust. The fireplace at Dahn and Jesse's doesn't work. It'll be a cold winter over there. Their apartment is twice the size of mine, with twice the windows. Even when the fireplace works, the apartment is cold in winter.

Oh winter. It's coming.

how did I do that in grade four?

When I was in grade four I didn't have friends, I had books.

This has to be the story of many a former awkward-kid-turned-smart-adult. The thing that hit me as I walked into my apartment tonight is this: when I was ten years old, I couldn't give a rats ass.

Sure, I knew that most kids played outside with other kids. I was just blissfully apathetic to my seclusion. My tonic for loneliness was George's Marvelous Medicine. My personal universe was an odd cross between Narnia and the Secret Garden. I read back-issues of the New Yorker for shits.

Today I killed the evening at the cafe, reading books by myself.
But, unlike my gradeschool self, I kept glancing over my shoulder waiting for a friend to show. When I went home it was dark, and I felt lonely. If I spend an evening alone these days, I find myself feeling like the last person on earth.

It's a tiny, terrified sort of feeling. Like the whole world ended while I was sleeping, and I've woken up to abandoned cars in a silent city.

My disproportionate fragility at twenty one reminds me of some puppies I've known.
Puppies can't handle it when they're left alone, because they have no concept of a return. They just think you're going to walk out the door and never come back.

I'd much rather be like my cat.
He gives a cursory glance at me when I walk through the door as if to say "you again?" then sidles up to me when he feels like it.

My cat and my ten-year-old self would get along fine.

No sleep. Go for days without sleep.

(this picture intrigues me)

Gah. The busy life is getting me down, kids. The Silverbean closes for the season this Sunday, and I have to say that I'm not sad about it. I've put in a lot of time there this summer, and I'll be happy for a change of scene.

Speaking of changes of scene: new jobs!
Job the first: I am the Assistant to the program coordinator at Trent Radio. In laymans terms, I am Laurel Paluck's lackey. I'll put in about ten hours a week at the sweet radio station. I have to produce a zine by next week. God help me, I'm horrid with deadlines.

Job the second: I'm being hired as a barista at Natas Cafe. This is a scary idea. "Barista" at Natas is a whole different job description. I would have a higher rate of pay than the counter girls (and boys) with my main responsibility being making drinks. I would also be responsible for training one or two elite counter-kids on the machine, bit by bit. The shiny Electra espresso machine would be my baby, and the only people allowed to touch it would be me and Steve, the owner.
I'm freaked out. I told the truth to my bosses about my availability, skills and experience. but they think I'm awesome. I'm terrified of disappointing them by not being as awesome as they think I am. My friends think I'm ridiculous, after all this is a great job. The kind of job I've been gunning for since I left British Columbia. I'm just scared that I wont have the skills I need.

I'm not scared of failure until it's something that matters to me. Then I'm terrified of failure.

All the same, scared or not I start tomorrow night.

Goodnight friends, all made of glass. I need to sleep.