I used to work in a coffee shop. It didn’t do particularly well, not in a town like Bountiful in the early 2000’s, and not tucked away in the back corner of Colonial Square. I honestly can’t remember if I quit or if the place shut down, because if it seems like the two events happened right on top of each other. In any case, it’s not there anymore.
A few days ago, an old friend and I were talking about being an adult over a couple of apple ales. In particular, we compared where we are in our lives today with where our parents were at the same age. I’m 31 years old. At this point, my parents were deep into the process of raising my older brother and me.
I’ve been too busy for a lot of things lately, things that I used to love and do regularly. Things like staying caught up on anime series and new video games (my friend Shannon keeps reminding me that all three parts of Starcraft 2 have been out for ages now, and I’ve yet to play either the Zerg or Protoss campaigns). But one of the things that I miss doing the most, and which I’m swearing to you (oh, Great and Powerful Blogosphere) that I will start doing again, is to play Dungeons & Dragons.
This past Saturday, I attended the funeral of a man I wish I’d known better. He was the father of a very dear friend of mine, and though I’d known him for many years, I’d only had the pleasure of actually visiting with him on very few occasions.
