The Best Things in Life are Free

Bloggie friends!!! The things I do for free cake..

I have a Costa Card - you earn points on it whenever you purchase from Costa. Collect enough points to pay for a free coffee - so about once a month I get free coffee!! Yay!

Today the good people at Costa sent me an email with the heading:

"Celebrate with a free cake" - all I needed to do was activate my Costa Card following a handy link.

Except of course a million and ten other people are trying to do the same thing and the website's crashed. Ahem.

Undeterred, I shall try tomorrow again. I want my free Costa Cake.

:-)

Charlie says: I think this is a shorter way to go next door..



One more day to the weekend! Yay!

The Science of Grrrrr!

Gorgeous bloggie friends, being grumpy is good for you. The science of this conclusion is reported in more detail here.

Apparently being grumpy and miserable sharpens the brain, clarifies the mind and allows thought processes to find solutions. Apparently.

So things get done, problems get solved and people move on! Apparently.

Now I’m all for being cheerful and feeling happy from inside all over and I really would much prefer to be in a permanent state of bliss and ecstasy.

But every so often you just want to shake that fist at everyday “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” – for perceived injustice, unfairness and downright ignoramous-ness of others!

My problem is that I always tend to feel bad and guilty after (it’s the lapsed catholic in me!) but now I feel a little vindicated for having growled at people at work for not doing stuff they said they would; for refusing to bunch my legs any further under the train seat so that this selfish man sat opposite me would dump his bags on his feet rather than on mine; for telling a queue jumper at my Costa coffee place that “hey you silly cow there’s a queue you know!”

Charlie says: Now you know why I look at you like so when you point that flashy thing at me!

Have a problem-free Thursday everyone!

We don't have cookies, just books!

Cookie Monster

Cookie Monster will always be my favourite from Sesame Street.

How could he not be? He was tenacious and very focused and had a clear vision of his life's path and in acheiving his singular goal.

Cookies.

In particular the eating of as many as possible.

Being a Cookie Monster sort of explains why.

Libraries

I love them and I will defend their existence as a sacrosanct place to read, browse, study and have quiet silent time pondering the many texts and wondrous information on line or in print.

I don't want it to have cafes inside library space. Nor do I want to be forever having to clear desks of half drunk coffee cups, opened packets of crisps and screwed up bits of chocolate and sweet wrappers.

I want my librarians to go "shhhh!"

Cookie Monster + Libraries = Cookies + Books

Charlie says: all libraries should have cats.


Have a happy Wednesday everyone!

It’s the little things in life….

Guilt:

I feel this abstraction hit me like lightning as I leave the cat. A day after a chemo session, she always looks depressed. She sits hunched, rigid, tense, head a little low, eyes wide and dilated. When she is like this I find that staying with her, petting her, just having my hand resting on her – gently of course - gradually makes her purring louder until I could feel her spine relax and her pupils constrict. Gradually she will yawn, stretch out her front paws and lay down on her side. Gradually she will sleep. Later she will awaken and go straight to her water bowl to drink copiously. She may even decide to eat a little.

This time I couldn’t do any of these. I had to leave her sitting hunched and tense to go to work; that necessity that allows me to pay the rent, the vets bills and to live. So far my employers have been very understanding and have allowed me to take all these leave days from my next annual allowance. But today I am needed.

So there I am stuck in the morning commuter train going nowhere. There’s a points failure along the line. The carriage grows cold as the heating switches off. I know I’m going to be late and wish that I had stayed a few more minutes with the cat. If only I had known.

Redemption:

I alight the train, join the resigned masses as they meander towards the ticket barriers. My hands are dry and numb. I need warmth. I need comfort.

Costa looms ahead of me. Costa, costa, costa. Get thee behind me costa.

But wonders of wonders! Shimmering in all her blonde yellow loveliness is the barista of my earlier blog post. I can’t believe my luck. She’s back, she’s returned, she still glares at everyone with such disdain and undisguised ennui, but she is there in the flesh, snarling and scowling.

I reach work caffeined up correctly, the most gorgeous cappuccino swirling in my guts and in my blood. I am ready to roll. I am ready to rock. I busy myself with work, work and more work. I tell myself that it’ll make the hours go quickly and make the end of the working day arrive sooner.

Suddenly the guilt is assuaged. I shall be home soon.

Optimism:

I see this headline: “Having a big bum, hips and thighs, is healthy” and I know things are just going to be ok.

The cat and I will see our birthdays together this summer.

The perfect cup of (costa) coffee = £2.55 (inc. VAT)

I love cappuccinos. I love a good cup of cappuccino. I love a good big cup of cappuccino made by someone else I pay.

I don't ask much of this world. I don't. I want the cat to live forever. I want to be able to compose this poetry for my homework = all 40 lines of it. I want to win at least one small competition for any of my short stories. I did win £50 once for a "flash" story piece - but the website where the competition was hosted has since disappeared...! I want my train service line to not shut down for eight weekends this month and the next, forcing me to take their special laid on buses to and from work adding an extra 4 hours total of journey time.

What makes a good cappuccino? Shots of strong just grounded good quality coffee and a further shot of milk so frothy and so light a hippo would float on it.

I know, I ought to just make my own. I know. But I don't have a cappuccino maker. We did have a really cheap one at work but I could never get the froth right. Or the coffee beans ground just so. That broke down soon after anyway.

I want a little treat. I want to be pampered a little. I work a full time job and have another part time one at the weekends. I'm living with a cat I saw born 17 years ago and who continues to cling with determined paws to her tenth life. I have fat calves. Shop people ask me for my ID when I buy alcohol.

I've tried Starbucks, Cafe Nero, the other one I can't remember and Costa. For a few weeks, there was this wonderful no-nonsense barista from this one Costa place I discovered who made cappuccino for the gods and goddesses. I would have gladly fought monsters and tamed dragons so she could be left in peace to take her time making my perfect cappuccino. Which she did every single time. Queues what queues?Then she disappeared. And so endeth my love affair.

Of course I stumble on really good cappuccino making baristas from Costa every so often. But stumbling upon these rarities are a lottery. Like the cat's progress, there are good days and bad days and terrible days. At least, I know I am not wasting my hard earned dosh on her.

Oh Costa, costa, costa: get thee behind me Costa!

p.s. just spoken to the vets. The cat's blood test results are better than expected - so onwards with the chemo sessions! Starting next Monday...! Hooray! Cat 1, Costa 0.