Reeaaallly.

This post is dedicated to everyone who has ever worked in a coffee shop. Raise your mugs, I salute you.


So here's the thing.


We have amazing customers, amazing. Every last one of them is essentially gold plated wonderfulness-and I love coming to work everyday. That said (somewhat of a disclaimer) there are certain quirks some customers have that no matter how lovely they are, drive me mental. This post is about the "end piece of the loaf".

Customer:
"Um excuse me. I won't have this end piece, may I have another?"

Me:
"Yes, of course! How could I be so silly to not see the big sign on your shirt that says you don't like the end piece! I understand your disdain"

Ok...so maybe I just say "sure" or "you bet" but really. No one loves the end piece. No one dreams of a big hunk of crust. Lets get it together people, honestly, if it is just your luck that a small percentage of your loaf is darker in colour and perhaps minutely less tasty (although more generously cut in order to account for this horrifying occasion) , just take it.

On a less bitter barista note, I'm having a great morning- ;)

House Cleaning

Strange enough, I find that cleaning one's own house can be so cleansing. I have to admit that the best feeling is waking up the next day-to a glimmering, perfect castle of one's own making. House cleaning is the ultimate test of delayed gratification, the entire reward exists in the future. However, my brain must be starting to warp because over the last few years I've begun to enjoy, relish even, the feeling of an aching back when I climb into bed. If I am not in pain, for some reason I think that perhaps I didn't clean enough, or accomplish nearly as much as I should and somehow the outcome will be lacking my usual revelatory morning sensation. Is it possible that the lack of ache is due to a new found sense of moderation with which I must be cleaning more often and therefore have less pain due to less work? NO. That is simply unsound.