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---
template=post
title=Weeknotes: Trip to A Coffee Shop
style=/styles/post.css
style=../../writing.css
path-offset=2
weeknote=6
published=2025-02-11 20:35
description=where i become a little more real. and drink some coffee.
---
<style>
.wkn {
color: var(--text-dim);
}
</style>
"i forgot my earbuds at home and i think i'm going to die. i pulled around the
starbucks and nobody was inside except two people working. i can't go in now!</i>
"i would leave, maybe go through the driveup, because there are not enough people
inside and that's too much pressure to exist in, being one of only three people
in a place and i don't know the other people. i can't Blend In.</i>
"but some better version of myself, the Me that i want to be, would go in anyway
and sit and be on her laptop. and i am trying to be that version of me, so i
guess i have to go in."
<hr class="asterism" />
<p class="wkn">Hello again. It's been a bit.</p>
<p class="wkn">Since I last wrote to you I've done not-much. I wrote an lzw decompressor for
my gif crate. It's 2,000x slower than the weezl crate which is what I was using before and
am still using.
<p class="wkn">I didn't really think I'd get great performance, but I just wanted to be able
to say I did it. It's also a bit broken, but that's okay. I can fix it later :)</p>
<hr class="asterism" />
She stops the engine of her still-running car and flings the keys at her body in
a "that's it, the engine is off" sort of movement. The door flings open. Her
phone makes it into her pocket, just barely, and her body is flung from the vehicle
without time for her to think about it.
"I guess we're standing now", she exclaims entirely inward. The drivers door
stays open as she retrieves her bag from the rear seats. Finally, as if sealing
the doing-things deal, she uses the inside button to lock things and closes both doors.
It's cold! You can tell because she's wrapped the cardigan further around
herself.
<hr class="asterism" />
<p class="wkn">I always intend to write here. It's something I want to do and a thing I think is
good for my mental health and a habit I want to keep (rather, develop?).</p>
<p class="wkn">It's hard! It's not supposed to be easy, perhaps. My thing-doing cycle is,
out of sync with the weeks. It feels like every two to three weeks I get a few days
where I can work on anything. Otherwise I am fairly nothing-doing. What I do on most
days I could not tell you. I'm working on fixing this, I think; I'm trying to claw
days back that would otherwise be lost to whatever it is that is taking them.</p>
<hr class="asterism" />
They asked her if she wanted a "for here mug" and it was gently confusing. That is
not something she knew was real and actual. Paying, she sat down and opened a little
notebook. It has writing taped to the cover with things like: "slowly! go slowly",
"do a thing today!", "don't get paralyzed", "try!", etc.
"Agenda", she writes on a page with a ripped-out corner. It should say "Dreams I Have
For Today" or even "Aspirations of Doing", but the ripped-corner makes the available
room rather minimal.
<hr class="asterism" />
<p class="wkn">I am writing to you from a coffee shop in Octavia, Wisconsin. That is not a real
place, but I will use it as a thin facade over the place I actually live. Plus
"Octavia" is really quite pretty.</p>
<p class="wkn">I came here with dreams of doing; with an agenda to get some things done. To start
the next era of my life where I try really, very hard to get more done and love
myself more. I am sure, certain in fact—which is a synonym of sure but we're moving
past that—that this feeling of confidence that I can Exist will fade off and die,
but I will fight to keep it alive.</p>
<hr class="asterism" />
She sits at the table in the corner. The heat has just kicked on and it's giving pleasant,
gentle warmth that is very much appreciated. She seems comfortable. It looks like she's
making promises with herself, with some future and past versions thereof, and trying to
keep her eyes dry. And smiling.
In her notebook with phrases written on the cover such as <i>embrace the weird</i>, she writes:<br />
"Note to selves: Forget your earbuds more often".
<section id="signoff">
<pre>till next time,
Mercy of Inann &<br/>Genevieve Raine</pre>
</section>
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