I checked in at the hotel yesterday afternoon. It was a comfy $50 a night. Unfortunately, the reason it was so crappy was because it was such a dump. My non-smoking room had clearly been smoked in; there were cigarette burns on the bed. Some of the lights didn't work, and one of the plumbing fixtures was loose and ready to fall off the wall. It looked like a place rented out to film amateur porn for the internet.
Luckily, I've got a friend in Camarillo who's kind enough to let me crash at his place for the weekend.
Now, I'm hanging out at a Starbucks (yes, a Starbucks) trying to get in some writing while my friend is out running errands. Some of my friends are proud hipsters, so I figured I'd join the club. Sipping coffee in a Starbucks, in one of those antique-looking chairs, while typing away at my novel. That's hipster, right? That's in no way corporate. Right? Right?!
The writing isn't getting done today. Starbucks is a magnet attracting annoying people, and by that, I mean high school students, two of which sat across from me chatting and rating which of their classmates are hot.
One of them said, "My baby said hi to me." Her friend said, "Awww, I want a baby!" I'm hoping their talking about boyfriends rather than skanking it up and getting preggo.
There are other annoying people, but those two have taken the cake so far. So, no, the writing is not getting done today, not when I'm in the middle of the Annoying Zoo surrounded by so many exhibits of stupidity. It makes me feel normal.
Besides, after working hard on Eat the Rich for the last month, getting to a hundred pages, I think I need a few days to unwind and let myself reset.
But come Monday when I'm back at work, my well of anger will be refilled thanks to the patrons of Starbucks.
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