So the other day, I was working at my office (a.k.a. Paradise Cafe) when I noticed a man sitting at a table across from me, furiously writing on sheets of lined paper what could only be a new conspiracy theory. His hair was disheveled, there were crumbs and stains on his well worn clothes, and propped up in front of him was a circa 1999 laptop held together by duct tape. He looked up with splayed eyes, and I thought, uncharitably, that this man must be crazy. A few minutes later, I was on a phone call when he stood up, marched right up to my table, gave me the stare down, and then stooped down right by my leg to yank out his computer cord by my foot. He hurumphed his way back to his table, gathered his things and moved to another booth a few feet away. I couldn't believe I had somehow offended him, by talking on the phone in a restaurant BOTH of us were using as an office.
After a few minutes I hung up the phone and started getting to work. My eyes diverted to the slight drizzle marks on my shirt front from the soup I accidentally spilt as I reached down for the battery cord for my laptop, which,consequently, was held together by yellow electrical tape. I began typing out ideas for my latest business venture when it came to me that there really wasn't much of a difference between that man and me. We were both working away at something that would probably never happen, but were happy to be trying anyway, (not to mention eating insane amounts of mini cookies in the process). So if you are currently working on your own conspiracy theory and not sure if you are crazy, head down to Paradise Cafe--at least you will be in good company.
Till next time office partner!
Truth #3. I got dumped. Twice. This year. Like, in the past 4 months. I know what you are thinking--how is that even possible? And trust me...I have had those same thoughts. The reason why I am saying (I guess typing is the better word) this is because I recently watched The Social Network and think there is a good chance I am currently inventing The Facebook.