Sidetracked

It's a grand idea. I'll gather information for the article proposal, note my personal experience, track down the editor's name and I'll be ready to--

Toilet paper. I have to remember toilet paper. A roll and a half isn't going to get this family of four past 3 o'clock. I'll just add it to my list, the one I have sitting here on my desk, right next to the...

Ooh! A couple new blog comments, I see. And Mom forwarded that recipe. Ooh, that looks reeeaaally goooood. Awesome. And... since I'm here... maybe I'll just check on Faceb--

"Mommy! I'm thirsty! Can I have some milk? And a snack? I'm hungry, too. When's dinner? I mean lunch. Did we have lunch yet?"/"Yes, sweetie. Remember, we had beenie weenies?"

Chumbawumba! That's that band's name. And the song, oh, what was that called? Tubthumping, yeah! I remember, like, back when I worked at Paradise Grill, that song would come on the radio as we prepped for lunch, and what'shername would crank it, and we'd--

Oh, shoot. What time is it? What day is it? I've got to get the car payment in the mail today. But do I have any stamps? I think I'm out of stamps. I'll have to run into town, to the post office, and maybe grab some toilet paper at the store. Which is just down the road from... The doctor. I really need to call and make that follow-up appointment with the doctor, too. I think I left my to-do list--

"Girls!? Why are there balled-up socks all over the kitchen floor? Can we pick them up? And the Barbies, too? I nearly fell over Alexa, you know how clumsy Mommy is. Please? Girls? I love you."

Thank You for my girls. Thank You for all my blessings. Please be with us, guide our paths. Help Dad, be with the church ladies, bless--

What is that smell? Is something burning? No, it's the dryer. The dryer? Good heavens, I--

Well here's the book I lost. How'd it get in here? Wish I had time to read it. Maybe in the loo later, since that's the only place I seem to have any down time. May if I could--

Cripes. I forgot toilet paper.

Is Starbucks For Me?

Last Sunday I had some rare time to myself. The day started with friends and brunch at First Watch (amazing food! If there's one near you, you have to go!). I did some shopping and browsing at a few favorite places, and then, because there was nothing to stop me, I carried my copy of On Writing and a notebook into Starbucks, ordered, and claimed a table.

You know what I learned?

I'm too distractable to spend any lengthy amount of time in Starbucks. Sure, I love the idea of losing myself in a book, or crafting a handwritten masterpiece. Taking a break to sip my delicious coffee and then losing myself all over again.

But other people are there. There's a part of me that wonders what will they order? (And then the inevitable, Mmm, that sounds gooood, why didn't I order that?) What are they doing today? What's their name? Do I look ridiculously obvious, sitting here with my writing stuff?

There are windows to look out from, decor to weigh in on, interactions to soak up. And then, when a few young girls who haven't seen each other in months swoop into the store, giggly and high-pitched and loud, talking about someone's engagement, well? How am I supposed to concentrate?

I guess I enjoy the experience of my space at home best. Settling in at my desk or reading chair, into that familiar comfort.

Oh, I'll go back to Starbucks. I know I will. (I still have a balance on my gift card.) And if I'm sans kidlets, I'll grab a table. But next time I'll take just a notebook, with the intention of jotting blurbs about what I see around me. People-watching - "researching" - is one of the things I do best, after all. Maybe I just have to fine-tune what I do when I'm in a coffeehouse.

What are your experiences at Starbucks (or that local coffeehouse) like?