Move over J.K.

I remember reading somewhere that J.K. Rowling would frequent a certain coffee shop in Edinburgh, Scotland.

She would go there to be left alone to write…

I think she had a box full of paper scraps with snippets of ideas for parts of her story.

Well…

I’m sitting in a McDonalds………ensconced at a little table with my laptop…

Does this count?

Well, except that I had to call home and find out how to connect to the WiFi here.

 

Maybe I’ll remember this time………(HA!)

Just like I’ll remember how to do the automatic ordering at the new McDonald’s kiosk…………..

This nice, progressive, computer-literate, young person-employee pounced on me when I first pushed open the door.

She said it was simple……………..that she’d walk me through it…

It was simple (I think).  It was quick.

I’ll never do it again…

 

That’s simple, too.

But now I’m successfully sitting with my large Mickey D’s coffee…..

Dr. Atkins and I have resisted the McD’s hash browns and apple pies…………..we are buzzing-out on a carbo-deficient, large coffee.

 

 

I’m listening to what must be a current music loop…………………how many times can Katy Perry say the word “fireworks”?

 

………………….Geez, lady, get creative!

 

I’m writing to my cloud friend, Pascal.

I’m ignoring Katy.

AND I’m wearing a bra and blue jeans!…………………..(well actually more than just that).  The jeans are comfortable.

The bra is chaffing.

I’ve left Patrice hanging on my bedroom door……………….I miss her………………she’s far more comfy than this lacy, underwire torture-test .

 

I’ll wear bras again when they develop a cup for underarm boobs.

 

What’s that, Pascal?           Why am I here?

Well, I’m waiting for a friend (who I just dropped off) to finish a “procedure”.

You say “procedure” when you want to avoid saying colonoscopy…

Better her than me.

I’m up to date on mine.  They’re even more uncomfortable than bras……….but not by much………….and at the other end.

*****Now the Bieber-boy is rattling on repeatedly about some “Baby, Baby, Baby—Oh”.*****

………………and he made money at this?

And I wonder why I don’t go out more?

Bras and bad music…………..

Where’s Leon Redbone or Boz Scaggs when you need them?

At least the coffee’s good…

I’m wondering what sort of public domain photos I can find that could possibly support a post about this “procedural” outing?…………………….

I don’t fit in public anymore………………I don’t like the music, I’m scratching at my under-garments, I have a nest of eight eggs in the back of my truck (no hen……………I checked)………..I came with my own ingredients for an Egg McMuffin…

Coffee’s finished.  Mic drop.

I need to go home…