I feel good this morning, and that's surprising. I stayed up until the Oscars were done last night - I knew that a Lord Of The Rings' victory was a sure thing, but I wanted to see it complete the historic sweep - and thus didn't get a lot of sleep before my 7am alarm. I was nearly late for class, owing to the lackadaisical morning TTC performance (which, in all honesty, is a rarity), and my brain was whirring with adrenaline soaked exhaustion as I listened to the TA expound upon Alice Munro's 'oppositional feminism.' (I assure you, that's not a good combination).
But after that? I went to New York Deli over on Bay street and had a cheap breakfast. Bacon, eggs, hash brown, toast, OJ, coffee and a paper, all for just over 5 bucks. I mention this only because that place is one of my favorites. It's warm, cozy, friendly (despite the name), and a fantastic place to read and relax between classes. I'm in there often enough that the morning staff recognize me (always a good feeling), and the atmosphere is such that I'm nearly always inspired to write - I don't know what it is about the place, but my muse always starts working when I'm there.
Right now, I'm sitting in the food court across the street (I can't bring myself to lounge in the Deli for more than an hour at a time - I feel like I become a burden on the staff...even though the place is usually rather empty), amidst the pre-lunch throng, rattling off this entry before I head to my next class.
This is what I always imagined a writer feels like when he's in the midst of his craft. Calm, yet excited; relaxed, yet active. There's a soothing peace that comes from forming cogent thoughts and getting them down, and that's definitely helped along by the warm atmosphere of the nook-diner.
My writer's muse is pushing me now, and though these posts won't show up until this afternoon (when I'm able to upload them), I'm going to see if I can't rattle off a few pieces of observation before I have to pack it up.
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