Yesterday was my first official day back in the office. I am one of the first people on the floor and it was lovely to see one of the other early birds whom I have not laid eyes on in over a year. After the pre-requisite elbow touching in place of a hug, the first few minutes are spent catching up. It was a routine repeated as others came in. I spent the day in a bubble of working, reconnecting and organizing as we also make ready for a floor wide restructuring.
Some of it was very familiar: Coming in early, jumping into work, plugging up to my music to focus, not taking a proper break for a few hours; rolling my eyes at the one colleague who insists on wearing ill-fitting shoes that squish and clomp noisily as they pass my desk, staying late to work with a client having an issue, even the extra-long commute home was an annoying comfort of the familiar.
Still, for all its familiarity something about yesterday that felt off and I could not identify it until today.
Yesterday… 🎵 Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so fa… 🎵
Huh? Oh, wait sorry, sorry… brain wandered off for a musical moment, I’m back.
Yesterday, because I was distracted by several things, I had not taken my mid-morning coffee run.
Today I remembered. So off went I to my home away from home, away from home.
While the trip itself was done by almost by rote, it was once I was back at my desk and sipped that did it.
My Starbucks special order, the one thing I cannot get in my neighborhood, was in my grubby little talons once more.
There was a new staff from when I was there last; no familiar faces at all. I handed my phone to the barista and watched her face as she glanced from the phone to the register to place the order and then gave me a silent but definitive are you fucking serious(?) look as she handed the phone back. I especially enjoyed the look of resigned yet annoyed belief when I informed her of the irony that it was a former Starbucks barista who worked at that location, which gave me the recipe.
I have a Keurig with Starbucks k-pods at home, and I love it, but it’s still not quite the same thing because I have that ridiculous order. Yes, my favorite order is one of those orders. When I cannot mobile order, I amuse myself by watching every new barista I hand my phone read the order and then tries, but inevitably fails, to not make a face as they re-read it a couple of times before they make it.
Whether it’s the fancier machines or their precise measurements for the base, it’s just something that I cannot duplicate in my kitchen.
As that first sip slid past my palette and settled oh so warmly in my tummy, I felt it. It’s a small thing, but a needed one.
Ah yessssssssssss! I was back…
Come see how others are slicing it up today.