the Starbucks thing… I have to tell you the week I was enamoured of Starbucks was because I needed nurturing. I had a terrible cold that I had picked up from operators using their hand for a kleenex. For that rehab station, I thank Starbucks. You gave me a seat when I was dizzy, cold and sick. And in return, I addicted to your soy cinnamon dolce latte no whip. It can’t keep going on this way though. Basically, I don’t believe in goofy brown stuff.
I’d rather spend the time in my kitchen making some breads and pizzas and calzone and sipping some unhyped tea. Letting my now chest cold heal. That’s where I’ll be. oh I quit that job. I was being offered too many more real, more wholesome jobs that’s why? Yeah, yeah, they loved me. “So then set me free,” I said. “Thanks for the nice cache of cash though.”