coffee off the clock is a weekly column full of musings on life since i left my 9-5, and building a life around writing. join me for a coffee every week and follow my journey!

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“what i am is…is… i’m very transparent,” says the blonde woman tucked into the corner of a tall booth in krispy kremes. the interviewee picks up his spotty paper cup, apologising under his breath for interrupting her with the sip he’s about to take.

i’m watching behind the glossy wooden beams. i didn’t mean to be here. i booked brunch for a cafe in the merchant city, but woke today adverse to the 1 hour bus commute there and back. i said to myself: we’re practicing the art of inconvenience, ailsa, not migraines.

she’s stoic, hardly changing expressions since i sat down. the interviewee can’t read her. i kind of admire that ability to hold a certain energy like that with saying nothing at all. he continues to nervously waffle and she refuses to nod along. he circles the same answer over and over, like a dog chasing its tail. he’s waiting for her nod. the confirmation that he might just have her approval.

that was me. but here i am. on the outside of this world looking in. no more anxious sweats. no more performances. no more games of strategy. no more power play. and trying to read people’s minds. i’m sitting here with an ice vanilla latte and a chocolate donut and i get to just be… me. but the strawberry blonde man with glasses in front of me doesn’t, and i think he knows it.

i’ve come to know the situation. he’s a current employee going for the deputy manager position. they know one another. with every answer he gives, she furiously types on her laptop, occasionally looking up to assess him. she relaxes at one point: “put it this way, this job has given me quite a few grey hairs.” she purses her lips and slowly surveys the room.

With me behind, you’re tasting of the sweet wine of success. Cause I’ll, I’ll take you to the top, baby. This was the song that instantly came to my head when observing these dynamics. my biggest flaw is that i love the rolling stones, unfortunately. ever since wearing their iconic tongue logo on a wee t-shirt from primark when i was 11. i thought i was ‘so not like other girls’ because i had a collection of primak rock t-shirts. i’d be sweating if someone asked me to name three of any bands’ songs back then, though. 🥲

speaking of clothes, peep today’s outfit below 👀. do you know what, reader? i think i’m finally reviving the cool girl in me and balancing her out with a bit of florals & colour. my sister said i went from ms trunchbull to ms honey over the last few years, and now i think i’ve brought them together in peaceful harmony. i call it ms honeybull. jung would call this ‘integration’ or ‘the union of opposites’ lmao.

anyway, people begin wandering into krispy kremes. one of the workers drops a metal tray in the back and their conversation gets lost in the noise. but i’ve got a trained ear for corporate language: streamline, circle back, sales, targets, delivery.

i take the bustle as a sign to tune out and devote myself to my friday outing, but their conversation is like a bluebottle to my ear. the more i try to wave it away, the louder it returns. finally, the noise fades out, leaving their words with very little to compete with.

he fiddles with his cup as she asks the final interview question: do you have any questions for me? i silently pray that he’s prepared one. over the slow grow of the afternoon, i’ve began rooting for him.

“not really,” he says and i let out an internal sigh of frustration. i’ve moved from an observer to a silent participant – like this is my interview. the corporate lure. then, he begins to raises a current issue within his team at work. it starts off professional and she seems compassionate, listening with a slight frown of concern.

now, with every nod, the once vague and general concerns of the interviewee become targeted and deeply personal. he begins to rhyme off names of people who are late, who have used their phones on shift amongst an array of more trivial issues.

“you know, i told her ‘i will trust you to do this’, but, the thing is, i need to be shown that this trust is warranted.” she leans forward, advising him to begin taking notes and monitor the situation.there it was reader, the world i couldn’t belong to but runs beside me.

some encounters just feel oddly fated and for me, this was one. even if it wasn’t, i’m glad i came out today. how easy it is to forget how extraordinary people are in such ordinary ways – job interviews, matcha dates, solo outings. whatever it is. it’s a writer’s sight-seeing.

oh reader, this week has been different from all others for many reasons. majd has been recovering from surgery on his meniscus, which, devastatingly, only led to a further discovery that he’ll need at least one other operation to repair an over-stretched and barely there ACL in his leg.

after the disappointment, he said to me that he believes there’s a greater purpose for this. that he can either treat this time out as punishment or gold, and whichever he chooses will determine how much he suffers. he’s the most resilient person i know.

it reminds me of last year, we were in edinburgh and got a £50 fine for parking in a silly place during an art gallery trip. when we returned to the car, i was sooo sure our day was going to take an awful turn. but he picked up the fine and said to me:

“i could be £50 down and sad, or i could be £50 down and happy. i know what i’d prefer,” and we went on to have the most wholesome little day out. bare in mind, we were probably the least financially stable we’d been since getting together and the trip to edinburgh itself was definitely pushing it for us. but that truly sums majd up.

i can see the dynamics within our relationship changing and evolving. he’s now going into a restful period while recovering, and i’m beginning to get my vitality back again, which perfectly balances the last few years out. he worked for 11 months straight with a torn meniscus and a barely there ACL while supporting me as i began building my writing career. now, it’s his turn to heal. to learn how to ‘be’ and receive. and my time to learn how to ‘do’ again and give back.

i remember writing in my diary a few years back: anything done from love requires no real doing. that’s how life is becoming for me. maybe part of the art of inconvenience is that things gradually start to become less inconvenient. they begin to operate less from discipline and more from devotion. the former born from control. the latter, from love. that’s what stops you getting migraines.

until next week reader, may all your coffees accompany some overheard corporate tea 😆☕️ 🫖.