I have been lectured on not revealing negativity with my blog.
Instructed to only show the positive and not the trials.
But I have never been very good at following the advise of the status quote and will still write out a struggle this past few months.
The wheels have been turning for more than a month now, but while the symptoms have been boldly in front of me - the actual diagnosis didn’t happened until this past Saturday.
For those that have heard me talk about my favorite coffee shop -at this point I normally add the coffee shop’s name and hit the Cha-Ching button for the free plug.
But today I won’t be mentioning their name…maybe for the sake of not criticizing them while dropping their name…maybe a little from the fact that I am saddened by the resent atmosphere and a little bit sore at the lost of my home away from home.
At the upset of my “normal” I became intimately familiar with a soft, easy chair that backed against the side wall of my new found coffee shop.
With the wall to my rear, my seat gave me a sense of privacy while allowing me to interact with life as it happened in front of me.
I grew to like the people that worked there. And for one, I grew to love her.
I pleasantly greet the people that pass through here on there way to work - not because I’m the Wal-Mart greeter - but because I have grown to like many of them and again, have grown to love others.
Not an intimate love for that of a spouse or a family member, but a love because they brought so much to my life and to my newly formed routine.
As most around me seemed in chaos, that soft chair was my safety. I felt good when there, hated to leave and loved to return.
I arrive one morning and find that my favorite barista was gone and sitting in my chair became awkward. The new atmosphere was unfriendly and strange.
Instead of a hardy hello, service quickly became cold and uncaring.
The usual banter between friends was vacant and replace with an aura of hatred.
Then I began to leave earlier and still earlier.
I found myself guzzling the coffee without a refill and was still unable to get out of there quick enough.
I found myself staying home more often and my new routine became unfulfilling and lonely.
I missed the patrons that have brought so much to me and now have a small void where they used to be.
But when I return to test the water I find it all the same, but was to bullheaded to quit.
As Karie and I exited the parking lot this past Saturday, I had an epiphany. I now realize that I no longer sit in my chair to feel good. I go to “work” in my chair and that allows me to network with others.
I go to my job.
And for that I am sad.