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!

the magpie squawks a deep, trill on the lamppost outside my bedroom window. that’s two nights in a row, i think to myself. and i notice it because the world has gone quiet on me all of a sudden.

i’m lying on my bed with a cushion at my neck, my laptop sliding on the slope of my thighs. bee flies between my dressing table mirror and the top of my head saying salam alykum in a strained, high-pitched voice.

he’s flying between two very conflicting feelings: curiosity and fear. i know this too well. he’s drawn to the chatter of the black and white corvid that he keeps meeting behind the glass. i watch him for a while, pleasantly avoiding my own nature: the one that tells me to write.

if i’m honest, life has become rather beige. it’s not like last time when i felt i was in-between chapters. that felt grey. there was a certain suffering the last time i experienced this. that’s because i fought it. but this time, it feels more like a true neutral. nude even. that’s what it means to be between costumes, right? when you’ve stepped out of one identity and you’re not quite into the next.

there’s a naked indifference and a sort of objectivity to the way you begin to experience life. intensity withdraws. meaning sequesters. the show has its interval. the lights go out. i’m the space between notes on sheet music. the black between stars. the nothing before the something. and everything just is. and still, you need to stay in motion. you must keep living. the dishes need done. bee needs fed. oh i know the perfect song. you can’t start a fire without a spark. this gun’s for hire. even if we’re just dancing in the dark.

i’ve even been finding it hard to get lost in my books. and i broke my long standing rule of reading: i caved and ordered another book before finishing the one i’m reading. what can i saaaaay. the power of myth by joseph campbell feels like studying. and while i like that – it just isn’t one for the night stand. it’s one that you really need to take notes for.

it’s full of big existential thoughts and almighty truths that can swallow a woman whole if she’s not too careful (me!). especially one whose brain is a little hot to the touch right now after a year of studying jung (that would be me again lol). so, i’ll answer the question that’s on your lips, reader. the book i bought was the alchemist by paulo coelho. and i bought it with one condition (that i promiseeee i’ll stick to): i can’t read it until i go on holiday in june.

majd and i have continued to keep in small motion after his surgery. for a few days, life seemed to be on pause and we fumbled around, tripping over one another, trying to figure out how we were going to adapt. in fact, on monday, i literally took a tumble down the top few stairs in our house and majd came rushing toward me on one crutch. that pretty much sums up how we were adapting. change is awkward and startling. but the wheel is in motion again. he’s recovering slowly but thoroughly, so on friday, around 11 days post-op, we went for our usual little brunch together. this time it was at scoff and patter in dargavel.

majd got a reuben sandwich and a flat white. and just because i’m the yin to his yang, the sweet to his savoury, i got a cherry & vanilla bean ice latte and a hazelnut and strawberry crepe. was i skeptical about cherry in a latte? absolutely. did it work? kind of.

it confused my taste buds a little bit and i feel like if you’re a matcha drinker, it would’ve worked so much better. but i just can’t get behind the seaweed drinking craze. sue me. i’m just glad that i’m getting that experimental side of me back again, no matter how small. it always begins in the ordinary things first. but i draw the line at matcha. been there. done that. not for me. i’ll just dress like matcha instead…

bee’s beak grinding in bed. the magpie’s gone. i’m looking out across the field, toward the clyde from my bed and i catch myself in the mirror. i’m like a blank slate. beginning again. i think back to monday’s class when i told them how i got banned from tinder at 18. the way they gasped. you? ailsa? the good girl? banned from tinder?! the way everyone only ever gets a tiny slice of the whole pie. i was never meant to be just good. i was meant to be whole. and like the magpie, that means accepting that i’m neither black and white but all.

until next week reader, may you all your coffees be a coffee and not a matcha 😎.

– ailsa x