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As a barista, I still enjoy spending a good bit of time inside a Starbucks. I enjoy sitting at the table with a drink by my side, and my writing strewn all over the place. I find it relatively easy to let the muses flow and romp and play in a place like Starbucks. I don’t know. Maybe it’s the coffee, maybe it’s the music, maybe it’s the… I don’t know. Maybe it’s just the public place. But I can sort of ignore everything and just get to writing. And it’s a brilliant thing.

But, I’m a barista. And going to Starbucks usually means going to work. So now I dress for work, pack my apron and head to the store. I sit in the cafe’ with my bag and my writing all over a table, and I start to wonder if I’m going to be called to work early. I can almost sort of relax during these particular writing sessions, but it’s only sort of.

Yet, this is what I’m finding myself thinking about. I’m thinking about jumping into the shower, cleaning up for work, and packing up my writing bag and just… going to the store and writing until my hands hurt. Who knows. I may even get through the outline that I already have planned out.

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