This one involving a terrible, terrible espresso. Chock full of grinds. Entirely the wrong colour. But served somewhere that serves OUR coffee (my company has a decently large wholesale distribution).
I argued with the guy who made it for me–I won’t even call him a barista–and in the end just walked out without having paid for it.
The dream also involved an ex (not the most recent, but one from Montréal) and bread shaped like a rabbit’s face.
This was during my 12 hours of sleep last night. I was a very tired boy.
For good reason.
My Sunday went something like this: get up at quarter to six to be at work by 6.30 to open so I could leave at 1.30 and make it down to a pub in time to watch the World Cup final at 2. Got there about 2.30 and started drinking. Didn’t stop drinking until about 11 or so. After a bit of a pub crawl. Went home and watched a movie and went to bed about 1.30 to get up at 7 yesterday and work from about 8.30-6.
Then I came home and lay down for a nap. And woke up 12 hours later.
Sunday was a sort of last hurrah as I am now officially on my Escape from Maine budget. If I stick to it, I’ll be able to save enough in about six months to move.