I'm at Caribou this afternoon. Working. It forces me to focus. That isn't to say I'm not a little distracted by people watching now and again.
There's a woman in here who has constantly been on the phone (she has puffy hair so I can't tell if she has an ear thingie) for a couple of hours. Or, she's talking to herself. Every half hour or so she goes outside for a smoke. There are three empty Caribou cups and an empty soda bottle on her table. She's not reading, writing or working on a laptop. Pretty much what all the people in here are doing. There's got to be a story there but I don't think I'll ask.
2 comments:
I've learned that once my imagination intrudes on "work time," I may as well call it a day.
So true.
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