I want to stop for coffee. The drive thru is right there, beckoning. It’ll just take a minute. It’s quicker if I run in. I look again. I’m already three minutes past my time–I’ll have to make it up on the highway. Can I make up five or six minutes? I’ll drive efficiently.
I find myself wondering how cool it would be if someone were standing outside the coffee shop at the edge of the driveway with my coffee ready. If I could just call ahead and have it balanced on a pole like the old train mail sacks waiting for a pickup.
I pass the coffee shop. If you want a cup of coffee, leave earlier, you idiot. The voice in my head chastises me. It’s tough to leave on time lately. The boy wakes up, I try to load the dishwasher, I lose my keys… I berate myself again. If you can’t leave one simple minute early, you moron, you don’t deserve another coffee. You haven’t earned it.
I’ve got The Junes.
It happens to every teacher–The Junes.
I find myself envious of my friends in offices who can have coffee anytime they want. Heck, they can pee any time they want, too–no small thing. Regardless of whether they are a minute early. Some even have their own baristas and get lunch shipped in. I miss those days.
I don’t need a drive thru worker to stand at the edge of the road with my coffee. I’ve already had four. And I don’t deserve five. Maybe tomorrow, if I leave early.