August 12th 2021
Today I’m thinking about my coffee shop again. It’s the place I go when I decide that work stress is too much for me. I sit and ponder about working in a coffee shop, and wonder if that kinda work would make me happier than I am now.
I think now, my image is of owning a coffee shop. It just seems a simpler life. It’s less money, less prestige, potentially less mentally rewarding, but also simpler, and less stressful, and more full of coffee.
I was in Bath for breakfast on Saturday, and this guy who owned the cafe was scuttling around looking all stressed, but I bet it’s quite an enjoyable life really. it’s a simpler one. Just make coffee. Serve food. Speak to friendly breakfast goers. That would be nice.
At the moment I spend most of my time talking to developers and they’re a pain. They see the world in a unique and frustrating way, but I guess so do a lot of people.
I finished work early today and went to buy beer because my brain was melting. I wonder if the guy at Castle Farm cafe who looked kinda like Ben Mendehlsohm has bad days. In my head it’s an idyllic escape from the hashtag hustle, but perhaps that misguided. He’ll have his own stresses. He’s had to keep a full wait and kitchen staff employed during a pandemic. That must have been challenging.
Maybe I should pull back on the ownership dream and just think about making the coffees instead. Latte art. Almond croissants. Chilli cheese sausage rolls. Serving people black coffee when they order an Americano and educating them when they ask why there’s no milk in it.
That’s what an Americano is, dipshit.
Maybe I don’t have the temperament for customer-facing work either.
At least when I call my colleagues dipshits it’s behind their back to their peers. That’s much better, right?
Until tomorrow, it doesn’t come with milk.