Weekend Coffee Share: New Apartment

If we were having coffee we would be sitting in my unmade bed (the sheets are in the dryer) with Leslie Knope, my new cat. If we were having coffee, I would probably make you help me move my dresser out of the living room and into my new room, once we finished our coffees of course

If were having coffee I would talk too much because I’ve been alone in my apartment for two days with only my cat to talk to. I would tell you all about my new job and how I’m so excited to dive in with the real work this week.

If we were having coffee, after I went on and on about my job, I might ask you how you’re doing and what’s new with you, but it is sometimes more like me just to keep talking about myself. So then I would go on and on about how this blogging transition has been hard for me and content creating has become difficult. Not because I don’t like it, but because I’ve just been in a rut with my thoughts and ideas. I’m either too ambitious or too underwhelming.

If we were having coffee, I would probably give your the mini tour of my new apartment, and it would definitely be a mini tour. I’d tell you how excited I am to have an office, but since we’re still unpacking it’s pretty much unusable. I would also show you the coffee maker so we could make a second cup. Then we would go back to my bare bed because the dryer takes forever.

If we were having coffee, I would ask you what I should wear to work tomorrow, and then tell you about my idea for a photo shoot of different work outfits but I lack a photographer, since that is what I do for others. I would also tell you about all the ideas for that I would need help to accomplish which is sometimes very frustrating.

If we were having coffee, I’d ask you for advice– what should I do with my life? Like yes, I have a job and I love it, but what should I be doing with the rest of my time, certainly not just watching Netflix and coloring like I have been. I just want to know what’s next.

If we were having coffee and our time was up, I would walk you to the door and thank you for coming. “I’ll see you next weekend my friend.”

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Weekend Coffee Share

If we were having coffee you’d be sitting on the other side of the couch at the home I babysit at every Sunday. We would be watch “13 Reasons Why” and I would be ranting about how much I hate boys and I just want to meet a nice man that treats me right and how I hope so badly it’s the one that’s talking to me now. Then I’d tell you that I don’t think it is, which makes me feel conflicted as conflicted can be.

If we were having coffee I’d be sipping my second big cup of the day. Trying to get rid of the headache, the tiredness I’ve been feeling from barely sleeping the past few weeks, and most importantly, just trying to enjoy the taste and calming down.

If we were having coffee I’d pour you a nice big cup. We would talk about all of the things that have been bothering me. My blog, boys, jobs, everything. I would vent, and then let you vent. I’d probably interrupt because that’s probably my worst habit of all. I’d complain about not knowing what to make for dinner, my diet, and then I would whisper “I’ll probably just go to Subway again.”

If we were having coffee, I’d let you know that I think it’s weird the baby has been sleeping for three hours, but I wouldn’t complain. Trust me I’m thankful. I would then go on to show you pictures of how cute he is, and how thankful I am for all of the wonderful families have allowed me to watch over their children this year.

If we were having coffee, I would probably go on a feminist rant, tell you about how much I love social media, and how I wish my blog would thrive. I’d have a lot to say, but at the same time, nothing at all. I’d open up like I used to on my blog. Before I went public with it, before I was applying for jobs, and before when I didn’t have many friends. I’d share my worries, my thoughts, and my doubts.

If we were having coffee, I’d ask you if you want another cup but pour you another no matter what the answer was. The truth is, on Sundays I get to a point where I desperately need to talk to an adult so I wouldn’t really want you to leave.

If we were having coffee, I’d have to eventually excuse myself to get the crying baby and I’d thank you for joining me. I’d invite you back next week and be so happy for my friendships with you.

What would you tell me if we were having coffee?