Sheesh. Lately I feel a bit like an advertisement for the Chapters companies. Rest assured, readers, Chapters has no idea I exist beyond the emails they send me way too often promoting a new e-book they’d like to sell me. I do not make a dime in revenue from Blue Speckled Pup –not to say I would mind a little income from all this– and I would never praise something insincerely.
My Kobo and I went for Vietnamese food tonight. I work late most Tuesdays because Sherman is at daycare until just before six in the evening. The whole busy Tuesday shuffle means I arrive home exhausted and ravenous. Tonight I considered scrambling myself an egg and making toast. I also considered having something with french fries on the way home. I virtuously squashed that inclination like a bug with his googly eyes on my butt (because that’s where french fries immediately head if I even look at them). Then I had a glorious vision.
I took Sherman home and left again with my Kobo in my purse. It has a dark pink case and my purse is the colour of watermelon guts, so everything was matchy matchy and oh-so-spectacular. I was also wearing my new punctuation sweater, also pink and black. It’s okay if you need to cheer aloud.
Ten minutes later I was seated at The Lemongrass Cafe, reading The Golden Spruce and waiting for my salad rolls. Isn’t “The Lemongrass Cafe” a beautiful name for a restaurant? It’s every bit as wonderful as it sounds.
No one was available to dine with me tonight, so I took myself out. I don’t think I’m any less worthy of having someone else make my meal just because I’m dining stag. I propped my Kobo at the right angle so there was no glare on my screen (using my cell phone in the pink case, surprise surprise) dunked my salad rolls in the peanut sauce and learned about giant trees. Then my soup arrived and I was able to keep reading, even though enjoying my meal meant wrangling wontons and rice noodles. Kobo just sat there, waiting for me to give him a tap when I was ready for the next page. It was a beautiful thing.
I might make a date with my Kobo more often. There’s something about a languid meal with a good (e) book that makes a woman almost forget there are three more working days until Friday.
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