Everyone at this cafe is staring at a screen.
Oh, how happy I am to give up my desk job.
It’s Wednesday. I’m sitting in a cafe eating a breakfast sandwich with this delightful salsa rosa, drinking coffee, and feeling very pleased with my decision to add bacon. I’m waiting for my laundry to dry next door, and as I eat and listen to some kind of music that sounds like knock-off Celine Dion, it hit me: I’m the only one sitting in this cafe not staring at a screen.
Most people are here on their laptops, likely doing their work for the day. Others are scrolling on their phones, passing the time, keeping themselves company as they slurp on the soup of the day—split pea—or nibbling on their breakfast sandwiches. I wonder if they’re even paying attention to how good the salsa rosa is.
I know this is the reality of the world, and honestly, it’s my own damn fault. I’m the one who walked into a cafe in Brooklyn during prime weekday working hours. Of course I’m going to come across people clocking into their jobs, and you know what, good for these few people who actually got out of the house and made the most of their day despite the biting January chill.
I think what made me emotional about all of these screens was how relieved I am that I’m no longer one of them.
Sure, my job requires me to work nights and weekends, a time when the majority of the world (including my friends and husband) are actually free to hang out with me. But as I sit in this cafe, it has never been more clear to me that I am not the type of person to have a job that requires me to stare at a screen all the damn time.
It certainly is an opposite way of thinking. I grew up with this idea that having a job where I work at a computer is part of making it or living the dream. Once I stepped away from that way of thinking, I realized my dream was steeped in a capitalistic way of thinking. Work at my desk, buy a house, have kids, spend money on things, then hopefully retire with the money you hopefully were smart enough to save. I remember days sitting at my desk feeling like I was withering away, staring out the sunny window and thinking is this really it?
I don’t regret the years I worked as a journalist; I really am proud of all I was able to accomplish during those 10+ years. But I do think I needed that time at the desk to learn about myself and what I truly want for the rest of my life, and also learn the style of work that suits my personality best.
For the longest time, when people asked me that classic ice breaker what was your favorite job?, I always said working at Dairy Queen.
I worked at a small walk-up Dairy Queen strand in my hometown and truthfully, I loved it.
That answer always got a laugh, but I don’t know, to me it never really was a joke. I did love that job. I did get to work with a lot of my friends, but I also liked the actual work. It forced my body to move and lift heavy boxes. It required me to work as a team, to help my coworkers out when they were falling behind or having a rough day knowing they’re someday do the same for me in return. It taught me how to be kind and hospitable to people I don’t know. And, what I think is something that is more important now, is the fact that I get to leave work at work. I never take it home with me.
Working in wine is certainly different compared to ice cream. The clientele is different, and it requires a lot more knowledge and an abhorrent number of flashcards. But the principles are all the same; constantly moving my body, physically working with a team, making customers happy, and leaving work at work.
It makes sense why I feel like I’m thriving, even though so much of my life has changed. I am not meant to stare at a screen all day; that type of lifestyle was slowly eating me alive. Yes, writing does require me to be at my computer, and clearly you’re reading this on a screen. But I’ve moved my actual practice of writing away from the screen, and almost all of my first drafts (like this one) are handwritten in my journal. It’s a much better balance and suits me best.
Maybe the people at this cafe feel that way about their jobs. Maybe they thrive with this kind of lifestyle, and I do hope down to my bones that they find the kind of work that makes them thrive, just like me.
But mostly, I hope they are also taking a few moments to pay attention to the salsa rosa.
Beautiful how noticing everyone glued to screens became a mirror for what you escaped. That line about capitalistic thinking shaping our dreams really landed for me--dunno how many people realize they're chasing someone else's script. I worked seasonally at a farm market once and remebered how much easier it was to sleep compared to office days.