Ready or not?

I miss Starbucks.

True, I still get my drink nearly every day. And my banter with the baristas who recognize my voice or my order through the drive-through speaker still makes me smile. 

But I miss sitting inside.

I didn't at first. And, for the short time during the pandemic when indoor seating was available, I was too wary and uncomfortable to take advantage of it. I would dash in (masked) to pick up my order and dash back out again as quickly as possible.

But now, as the (virtual) piles of papers to grade loom and the requisite silence in which to grade them is in short supply some days, I miss having a place where I can go. A place where the daily noises of dishes rattling in the kitchen, a basketball bouncing outside my office window and shouted conversations from one room to the next don't interfere with the words on the screen I'm trying to make sense of and evaluate.

Sure, there are plenty of noises at Starbucks. But none of them are my responsibility. Neither are the dishes to be washed or the tables to be wiped or the napkin dispensers that need refilling. I can put in my earbuds and zoom in on my screen, secure that none of the ambient noise that surrounds me needs my attention. I can get lost in the task at hand without being distracted. Without my shoulders touching my ears as tension rises courtesy of noises I can't shut out.

I also miss the atmosphere. At least I think I do. After more than a year of being in my house for the greater part of every day, I'm a little afraid that I don't remember how to play well with others. Or that I've forgotten how to shut out the once ambient noise, making it as distracting as the everyday noises filtering into my office from inside my house and outside my window.

Until recently, I was content to stay home to work. Now, the urge for a new change of scenery beckons. 

At the end of this month, my state joins the growing list of those who've lifted pandemic restrictions. Capacity restrictions will be relaxed and my favorite Starbucks will remove the signs from their tables -- the ones that politely inform customers that those spots are, for all intents and purposes, out of order.

I'll be able to drink my iced chai in-store. To grade papers, work on writing projects and maybe even socialize, albeit still from behind a mask. To leave behind the everyday noises that have become an unwelcome part of my auditory landscape.

Ready or not, here I come?