The weekend is not here yet.
I’m finishing the 2nd round of my early morning coffee, on this average sidewalk and admiring the espresso brown rings around the small ceramic cup. As I reach for my bag to look for my cellphone, I realized I forgot it, again. It’s probably charging.
The sun wants to sneak in between those pointy high ceilings that are particular to the lower haight, I see them from afar, and that sunshine wants to hit me right in the face for a second. Yes, the sun is there somewhere, just not here.
I need fog-friendly early morning sunglasses year round, and I wish I wore my big black round hat all the time as well and held a cigarrette in my hand so no one would come near me and at the same time fellow smokers do spark the same chit-chat constantly while sharing a lighter. It goes both ways.
I wish I had Kate’s kitchen ginger peach pancakes this morning. Damn those pancakes sound good right now, and I don’t even eat breakfast. I guess is all the roaming around.
For now, I’m already thinking more coffee is certainly needed and while I lean my bike against the wall that could spit back at you the smell of an overconcentrated perfume with scents of the early morning dog-piss. I overhear two guys talking about CSS, python and php. It is way too fucking early for this non-sense, and they need a good smack in the face. Shudddup. It is not even 8AM.
At 9:30AM for some reason I’m still thinking of those pancakes. Must be the fog and the lack of affection.