The alarm goes at 06.27. There is no specific reason for the time, other than the mental thought process which has 06.27 fall into the same category as 99p and 69%……the tipping point, and feeling that you are getting a deal, or weren’t quite good enough in an exam – getting up just on the wrong side of early – still, I don’t sleep much, or well – there is therefore some eyes wide open time before the alarm goes which then prevents you from trying to get back to sleep for fear of sleeping through said alarm……
The whole process can take less than 15 mins, and if the stars align and Morden via Bank is first on the line, I can be at my desk pre 07.30….this of course comes just after the most important stop of the journey…..
At some point when working in events you’ll find your vice. I would not want to suggest that there are those who dabble in the dark arts, but I know too that bar a superhuman strength not seen since the days of Thor, there may well be times when artificial methods of pick me up are required – sometimes, usually, frequently….
Its cold, dark to and from work, little air and nothing to tide you over until you can get hold of some Weetabix and Marmite toast (no, not together) in the canteen…..
And then, through it all, an angel
From a far away land
And fair in both voice and sympathetic eye
She tilts her head slightly as she speaks
Empathizing with the sodden man before her
And then, the words that make you feel warm
Never underestimate the power of these words. Of course, they imply regularity and a certain format to her day and mine, to know that between 07.10 and 07.20, in I could walk, and then, the ability to
pre-empt the ordering process, the quick swipe of a preloaded card as no money and fumbling change need pass from one hand to the other (getting the gloves on and off, and back on again can be a real pain)…….the smile as the barista double checks the coffee he’s been asked to make – for who wouldn’t when anything between 4 and 6 shots of espresso are involved.
The poison of choice? A tall, 4(to 6) shot sugar-free vanilla (why should the coffee and sugar kill me), skinny (see previous point and apply to full fat milk) latte…..
Now I don’t smoke, but I’m told the feeling of that first drag in the morning is somewhat comparable to the first sip of coffee. As you feel it corse through your veins, the slightly bitter after taste of the Aribica bean, cutting through the sickly vanilla syrup, as the sun begins to stick its own toe out of bed, there is the sudden feeling that everything will be alright – so long as the Seattle-based company I love (and yes, I know it’s not ‘real coffee’ and other coffee houses are available) stays in business….
I sit at my desk through the course of the day that follows, and there is always a cup of something; tea, coffee, the very odd glass of water, the fix of caffeine that is needed to get the body moving again – and the unusual fear that maybe some of the creative madness comes from the high it can bring (this is of course exclusive to the odd shake the same experience holds). My problem can sometimes be that I drink to much, eat too little, and work to long in between, how to balance any of it, I am still to master
Working in events is a long day – if I had a pound for every time someone had asked me if it was unsociable, I would not need to be working at all. Still, there could be worse things to look forward to, than the dark pool of dreams that coffee can plunder me in to – and to be fair, in the moments that my hand is empty, I miss it, the feel of the cup and the smell of the beans…..I guess, to some extent, I am addicted – but hey, like all addicts say – “if I needed to, I could give it up in the blink of an eye…”