It is probably no secret by now that I love a good coffee shop.
The reassuring sound of a coffee machine whirring around, the lingering smell of the coffee itself (I get both of these at work as well, imagine how great that is for me?), the gentle hum and buzz of it as a whole.
I am also aware that there is a huge element of the cliche attached to this, especially when you take into consideration that I discovered the depths of my love for coffee shops slap bang in the middle of doing an English degree.
But I don’t care, some cliches are good and what’s the point of not doing something that makes you happy just because it’s become a cliche.
So, yeah I love coffee shops. I am arguably never more productive than when I am sat at a table with whatever coffee I felt like when I walked in trailing in the air in front of me. The open pages of my notebook don’t seem so daunting, it’s easier to get lost in the world of a book, the mind seems to calm down as the atmosphere settles around me and get coffee out of it all. It’s win-win.
I don’t spend as much time passing an afternoon in one as I used to because I’m no longer unemployed but that makes the time that I do spend in them all the more satisfying.
And yes, that is 85% down to the fact that when I leave I have something new in the bag.
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