I am in a “High Street Coffee shop”, not that one. The other one.

It is quite nice, I must say. There are nice tables. There are people who will bring me coffee. The other people here are not the sort of people who might steal all my things when I get up to use the bathrooms. There is wifi – you have to tell them all sorts of things about yourself, like your inside leg measurement, and what you plan to call your first born, in order to be allowed to log on. But if something is free…

I am here because my car has failed it’s MOT test. Here in the UK, you have to prove that your car is roadworthy before you are allowed to put it on the road. This makes perfect sense. I would rather that all the other cars on the road had working brakes and brake lights, and didn’t spew out noxious gases as I ride amongst them on my bike.

But that is other people’s cars. My car should be exempt just so that I don’t have to sit here all day in this perfectly lovely coffee shop waiting for a garage to call and say that my car is fixed. I could be at home. But here I am, typing away.

I was reading a book, A Whole Life, by Robert Seethaler – but about half way through I almost started crying (if you have read it, you will know why I almost started crying).

So I had to stop that and write some computer code instead. If you have ever tried learning how to write computer code, I am sure that you will understand when I say that after an hour, my brain just stopped working. I was trying to hold together what a string, a variable a function were and how they all fit together in my amazingly simple program when my brain just gave up and turned to mush.

So I came here to just have a brain dump. All the thoughts that are in my head are now just coming out through my fingers. I was attacked by a bird this morning while I was meditating. Really. That is not lies. I have become so middle class that I am attacked by birds while meditating.

This bird had somehow gotten in under the eaves of the roof to where the water tank is. There I was plugged into Calm.com and concentrating on trying not to concentrate on anything when I was surprised to hear a sinister flapping coming from behind the wall.

Birds, by themselves are not normally terrifying. When they are where you expect them to be, outside and up a tree say, then they are pleasant to look at. When they are not where you expect them to be,  beside you as attempt to have a bit of quiet sit down say, then they are terrifying.

If you look up close at one, it clearly has no morals. It moves its head like a velociraptor. Ready to peck out your eyes just to pass the time. It cares not at all for you and the cardiac arrest it is causing you to have.

This one, pushed aside a wooden panel and peered into the room I was in. I looked at it and shouted “NOOOO!!!!”. It took this as an invitation to come into the room and bang it’s face against the  only window. The utter madness of it, flapping around without stopping and just over and over flinging itself against a window is apt to put the most hardy meditator at a bit of a loss.

I bravely leapt out of the room and closed the door behind me, leaving the bird to, in an ever more desperate attempt at escape, fling itself full force at the window. Over and over again.

So, now I was safe, but the room was not. There were loud bangs coming from it. What was I to do? My lovely wife had recently decided that the house we lived in needed cleaning properly, so she had bought some goggles. The house really was that filthy, it still is, in parts. I quickly put those on, along with some sturdy gloves. I steeled myself and leapt back into the room.

The bird was briefly stationary, perched on an inflatable mattress. He saw my goggles and gloves and this obviously gave him pause. He stared at me, with one eye, wondering what my eyes would taste like…while he pondered this I made a dash for the window and flung it open. The bird instantly disappeared out through it.

Other than that, my day has been uneventful.

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