thoughts from a indie bookstore cafe

there’s nobody here to distract me. i didn’t bring a book because i’m supposed to be grading. yes, there are tons of books here, but i don’t want to start one when i’m in the middle of one at home. i have OCD in that regard. i could do some self reflection before my therapy that i have in an hour. that’s what i should do. that’s what i should do. that’s what i should do. maybe if i repeat it enough i’ll start. it’s different here but the same. N is spinning cat stevens. i want to tell her what’s going on, but i don’t because i know that’s inappropriate. i want to tell E that i support her, but i don’t say anything because i think she already knows by the looks i give her. anyways my member mug is back on the shelf but it has since been broken and reglued. i’m happy to see it there – that means a lot to me. i keep hearing his voice, but i know it’s not him. of course it’s not him. it’ll never be him again. that bridge has been burned to a crisp black charcoal. i need to take deep breaths here. maybe i should have gone to the other cafe in the neighboring town. free parking. quiet. friendly staff. but the tables are small. very small. i can’t spread myself out. although they do have a punch card and mine is almost filled. i miss S. i saw her yesterday but it was only for a few minutes. i should really be grading. can’t i give my students all A’s? most of them deserve it. most of them. some are assholes and deserve to fail. kidding. no, i’m not. yes, i am.

it’s warm in here, but when i take my sweater off i start to shiver.

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About Gina Marie Thompson

writer • mom • trail runner • cheese slinger • educator • social justice crusader • seeker of love & beauty• living locally • I CHOOSE LOVE ❤️
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