Today I rediscovered my favorite coffee shop. Eileen and I were in search of the perfect place, and I remembered, from months ago when I came with Maggie, that the people at this certain coffee shop made designs in your coffee, and when I remembered this, we immediately headed there. Oh, and they have crepes, a wonderful atmosphere, and actual lunch food, which is a total plus. We started toward the coffee shop and we drove for around ten minutes down the wrong highway. We laughed it off and turned around, remembering that the coffee shop was on the opposite side of town.
I'm really good at staying up late, typing and thinking into late hours in the night. Sometimes I dislike that aspect of me, but it's something that I'll never be able to change. I'm back from late-night talking with Eileen about boys and how I happened to be in the same place at the same time as her after we parted ways to our separate plans. She drove me to sonic and we sat in her car until they turned the lights out at twelve. I love spending time with her, because many of our thoughts are similar; we both like the same things and last weekend we sang in the car together. We're not totally the same, though. Sometimes I forget that John Mayer isn't her favorite when his songs play one after the other on my radio, and she picks out the most ridiculous sweaters at all times of the year; I mean, like the bedazzled holiday sweaters that, somehow, manage to incorporate every color.
Lately, I've come home from school to a long playlist of spotify songs and the 1975 on repeat accompanied with a bowl of cereal, work three days a week and restlessness + excitement about the thought of summer, but dread at the thought of this school year's home stretch. Sometimes, on Saturdays, I don't wear makeup, because it makes my skin feel free, and I've convinced myself that I don't look all that bad without it. I've also considered wearing my hair in braids to work, although they might count that as having my hair down and disallow it, but I much prefer that over a ponytail. I bought a journal two days ago. It's plain, purple and leatherbound (or so it appears, so I'll go with it) and it took me five tries and a return before I found it. So I'm writing again, and I'm really happy that I am, because it gives me a chance to jot down some of my personal thoughts and feels in the moment.