Chrysalis Day Four

I’m seated at the large communal table at the biggest Starbucks I’ve ever seen. Today I shall challenge them and see how long I can linger here before they ask me to leave. My theory is that as long as I keep a cup beside me, they will not notice me for several hours. Let’s call it my office. My very noisy office filled with strangers.

Against all reason, I feel good today. Calm, level, grounded. A bit sleepy, but like my cold has lifted.  I feel like perhaps, just maybe, everything might be okay.

There is a couple seated beside me at the communal table. He arrived first. They seem twenty-ish, and just a bit hip. Sweet as pie. I think they’re from the Prairies.  She pipes up with a wholesome smile to ask me if I mind if she Skypes her friend. I do not. She asks me what kind of work I’m doing. I say I’m a writer.

“Cool, what do you write about?” she squeaks.

“Relationships” I say.

“Oh wow. Are you in a relationship?”

Holy personal. Is she hitting on me? No. I see by the red tips of her ears that she was just trying to be polite and friendly. I give her a simple answer and a reassuring smile, and go back to my work. I briefly entertain the thought of giving her a link to my sex advice blog, but then decide against it. My life is awkward enough these days. I needn’t seek out further awkwardness.

The lineup is now out the door in my office. Lots of people want overpriced coffee it seems. I feel the need to use the washroom and I wonder if my little Prairie girl can be trusted to watch my stuff.

A text message indicates that my day might be unraveling at warp speed now. My breath quickens and I am fighting to stay in this place of calm, this serenity that I seem to have found. None of the things I am worried about are within my control.

I will keep writing today. I will get right out of my own head and act as a conduit for ideas and stories to flow through me. I can write for my other blog, and I can draft some notes for a friend who just sent me a script to take a look at. I can also re-read the first draft of my book, so that it doesn’t give up on me and it knows that I’m still thinking about it.

I listen to the Prairie Dawn giggling with her girlfriend and giving her advice on a cover letter she’s written. She’s just said the phrase “Canvas for Christ”. I’ve made up my mind. I’ll send her to my other blog and then sip my latte slowly as I watch her read all about female anatomy. It’s impossible to be this close to me at any given moment without me altering your universe just a little. I think it’s what I was meant to do.

Viva la catalyst.

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