Last Call for Espresso

That means it's time to go, soon.
Leaving this addicting land of internet.
They're cleaning the floor, so my mocha sort of tastes
like...well actually it tastes exactly like the mochas they make
here, which are delicious.
The cleaner doesn't smell too bad, though
I think maybe it should.
Then they could scoot people out of here and vacuum the carpet
earlier. (I happen to be occupying a corner
that is on carpet, myself.) I understand
their desire though, to be ready to leave not at midnight,
but closer to 11, which is when the doors officially close
at this corner coffee shop. It's all rectangles and squares, here.
All except the coffee.

I still need to write to you and tell you
things you probably didn't need to know.
So I will just abstain from sending it.

In other news:
my hair is ever-longer as the days go by, and finally
the front appears to be long enough that I don't necessarily
have to cut the back to prevent a mullet from growing.
How exciting!

Do you know what else is exciting?
It is springtime. Sort of. Though today was never above 40,
and there was a hailstorm, and my feet have been cold
for the entire duration of the day's exploits,
it is still springtime. And maybe in a few weeks
we will feel it here for more than a brief
April-Fool's Day prank from the weather gods.
(that was especially cruel, what a BEAUTIFUL day April 1st was)

Farewell for now, and good luck.