Life in Starbucks, or the Musings of Mr. Bradley iv

Every afternoon for a week or so now, I've gone to the Barnes & Noble cafe, gotten a tiny cheap coffee, and sat in the corner to watch people come and go. It's been thoroughly enjoyable in that it helps me get in a more write-y mood, helps me give my characters more depth. A bunch of random stuff I've thought of while sitting in or walking to/from the cafe:

•The only depressing thing I've come up with, in relation to sitting in B&N, is that it's a world of transit. Everybody just comes and goes, in their own little bubble. Even if they sit and talk with someone, they have their own space that nobody else enters. All these bubbles bounce and touch, but nobody crosses over. Except for me and the employees. (Yeah, I go specifically to eavesdrop. Got a problem?)

•I'm irresponsible. Sometimes I feel like it's tangible in the air around me, or a sound I make when I walk. I go "irresponse, irresponse, irresponse" like in that Calving and Hobbes comic. Galosh, galosh, galosh. I spent money I kind of shouldn't have (and now DON'T have to begin with) and bought a beautiful 1000+ page book for only $21-plus-change. My rationalization is that 1, this is my September allotment (I've put a restriction on myself that I can only buy one book a month, unless it's a special case; special cases usually constitute midnight releases, but is open to interpretation) and 2, I saved 30% thanks to my member discount and the new release promotion.

•I love the staff at the Barnes & Noble cafe. And I think they love me.

•I can make a fairly decent fake mocha by loading a cup of plain coffee with cream, sugar, and cocoa, for about half the price.

•Current strengths in my life: talking to boys; playing Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook.

•It should rain. [ten minutes pass] It should rain harder.

•My iTunes library has far too many associated memories. I can't listen to anything without thinking of somebody, sometime, somewhere. (This is even after I've deleted the really painful ones.)

•The only place I feel remotely unsafe walking to/from Barnes & Noble is the outside bar a block and a half from the house. Not even the freeway underpass at night triggers the mild anxiety I get when I walk past one people start drinking.

•We need more milk.

•I need a job so I can buy milk.

•I think about milk way too much.