Morning coffee, 8.3.17

I encountered the Hallway Yalper yet again yesterday. Sort of.

Morning Coffee, 8.2.17

A couple minor changes, right out the box.

Free write, 8.1.17 (part 2)

(from Reddit)

I sat a table of three: a mom, her daughter, and Grandma.

After sitting, Grandma left to order spaghetti at the Italian place next door.

Mom seemed to be having an existential crisis. I asked her what she wanted to drink.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Can I get you some water?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to come back later?”

“I’m not sure.”

The daughter, who was getting impatient, stood up on her chair.

“Hey!” she said. “I’ll have you know. I want apples!”

“But first I have to get you something to drink. Would you like some water?”

“I want apples!”

Grandma ate Italian food in silence while Mom stared at a menu for an hour and a half and the daughter ate apples. When they finished, Mom paid, and they left. She tipped well, considering all they bought was $.50-worth of apple slices.

tl;dr: I sat and waited on a living Wes Anderson movie.

Morning coffee, 8.1.17.

I’m finally working in a position that encourages me to think creatively, so it behooves me to take fifteen minutes every morning warm up my brain.

Why People Don’t Perform The Mandrake

Because most productions suck. Answered. End of post.

The Mandrake, and other things.

Rehearsal for The Mandrake starts next week. I’m excited–excited to be finished.

Sign man.

There is little magic left in the world. There are no more elves; no wizards, giants or ogres.

Happy Birthday to me.

The man that almost ruined my college career walked into work two days ago. When I saw him, I almost hit him.

6 Things Buzzfeed Teaches Us About Writing

You got to this page because the title caught your eye, right?

At Starbucks

I was standing in line at Starbucks this morning.