Coffee Guy (on-hold)

2

.02.

Two weeks passed in a blur since I met Thomas - the barista. Frankly, I enjoy calling him the coffee guy. It adds to his already existing charm.

When we played chess that day, I lost multiple times in a row. To say that I was ashamed of myself is an understatement. I felt like I wanted the ground to swallow me down and never, ever let me out.

Gosh, my own father would be ashamed of me. He taught me chess when I was six years old; him being a regular 'play with mates' type of chess player didn't help my luck with Thomas. It only made me feel worse.

Anyways, from what Thomas had said, girls were allowed to play boys, to my greatest surprise and perplexity, since the sexist stereotype of boys being better than girls at literally everything pisses me off greatly. He had said that at least one-third of his chess club was girls, which was like a balm to my aching soul.

Apart from Thomas, chess and rainy weather, nothing has happened to me in the past two weeks I have been existing. University has me strapped and chained to its deadlines and commitment issues so intensely that I haven't been able to lift a book off the shelf for almost two weeks. I am swamped even now with three essays due next Friday, two painting analysis pieces due the same day and hundreds of pages of further reading I have to complete by next Monday.

God Bless Saturdays! And Sundays!

Why are there only 24 hours in a day again? Well, I definitely need more.

Although, today I am absolutely going to have a coffee at the chess cafe, sit down alone and finally complete The Amber Spyglass. I need a break from this never-ending madness - also known as a university.

After completing the trilogy, I am probably going to watch the film, The Golden Compass, and then spend the rest of my day being angry with the fact that there is still no TV series or films for the whole trilogy. Britain has got to sort this out because His Dark Materials is one of the best series written across the whole world, along with The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Ring.

Thomas and I wanted to meet at the chess cafe in the afternoon for a game or two.

I lift myself off the bed and place my laptop carefully on the bookshelf next to a pile of art books. I look at myself in the mirror and shudder at the creature staring back. I wouldn't be lying if I said that I looked like Gollum. My under-eye bags appear more intense today than they did the day before because of the first essay. Dirty-blonde curls have transformed themselves into a birds nest, all stuck out and tangled as if I wrapped them together with a piece of chewing gum.

Running a brush through my hair laboriously, I survey all the possible outfits I can wear today. The sky has cleared and the lovely morning sun shines through the window, leaving a soft and glorious glow. It looks like it's going to be quite warm, so I can take my denim jacket, just in case.

To conceal the sleep-deprived nights I have been graced with, I decide to apply a concealer, run a mascara through my lashes and - my absolute sweet nightmare - red lipstick. It takes painfully long to perfect on your lips, but the result never disappoints.

I pack the book I'm currently reading, my diary and pencil case into my cream tote bag and proceed to the wardrobe. I open its walls, the door creaking and the smell of stale wood hitting my nose. I should really beg my mum to purchase a new one, although I already know the idea is potentially fruitless as she likes to buy things from antique or charity shops.

Swiftly, I tug a navy-blue pullover over my white t-shirt and shimmy into a knee-length pleated skirt. It's wise to pull on some tights, so I go for my favourite - mustard-yellow ones.