Coffeeshop Memories.

My editor over at Patch is "on vacation" this week and I decided I was up for the challenge of filling in for him while he has some time off. It's been a week, my friends. It's all come together and it's all getting done but it's been a little crazy at times.

Knowing we had a full, fun day planned today, I decided late last night that I needed to get up early and just get my work done. The internet at home wasn't working at 5:30am this morning so I got ready for the day, packed up my stuff and came to Starbucks, where in a little while J will bring my littles. They'll be dressed and ready for the day, complete with their lunch packed for the Children's Museum. {He's good, isn't he?}

This morning though, in the wee, dark, cold hours, I was brought back 10 years or so to when I worked the early morning shift at a coffee shop in Chicago.

Go! Coffee at the Francisco stop off of the Brown Line of the CTA feels like forever ago. My alarm would go off in what felt like the middle of the night those mornings and somehow, someway, I'd get myself up and ready, walk the couple blocks to the train station and ride the bustling train of city workers to the shop. I can't remember now if it opened at 5 or 6.

I'd always tell myself I could take a nap or sleep later on in the day but I didn't. I've never been much of a napper.

I really loved that job. There's something about the coffee shop in the early morning hours. Where the regulars come in and before they've even said a word their drink was already being steamed and perfected. The crabby ones. The funny ones. The odd ones. The young ones and the old ones.

When I got to Starbucks this morning there were two others here. A man bent over his Franklin Covey planner as though if he stared hard enough the pages would turn themselves and a woman typing away on her laptop. Since then the shop has filled and emptied, some have sat down with colleagues and had in depth conversations, others sit and read the paper. Some are dressed in suit and tie, ready to conquer the world, still others, like a mom and her little boy, they're not yet dressed.

Isn't it funny the things we don't remember and don't forget? Something strikes us right and the flood gates open. I hadn't thought about Go! Coffee or my early morning train rides in years and this morning it seemed like the freshest memory I could think of as I tied my scarf around my neck, laced up my shoes and came to Starbucks.

The memory will last as long as the coffee aroma stays burnt in my hair and clothes and then as the day closes it'll make room for other fresh, old memories to come to the surface. It's fleeting.

Working on an end of the year recap post, like always. Here's hoping you're filling the end of your 2011 with good things.