Lydia’s Blog

The other day I got to the tram stop in enough time to grab a coffee at the bakery (which is right next to the tram stop). There wasn’t all that much time, and this bakery, rather than offering milk in a small pitcher, has those little plastic containers that hold about a half-teaspoon of cream. Therefore, it’s a real pain-in-the-ass to get my coffee as light as I like it.

So I thought, fuck it…no time. Just go outside and get the tram.

There I was, standing in the bitter cold with my very, very bitter black coffee. There was still a four-minute wait for the tram.

I probably could have turned back around and put in the effort of putting cream from those little containers in my coffee, but I was nervous to miss the tram and be late for work.

It suddenly dawned on me that I was in the middle of a very funny life-metaphor: Refusing to turn around and make my object or situation more enjoyable, for fear of missing that which should transport me to where I think I should be going. Not enjoying, and not yet moving.

But theoretically there’s always another tram, right?