Leaf, on Portland Street - a swift lesson in treating yourself

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It wouldn’t be wise for this kind of thinking to be my always-default, but after dragging myself through a morning that felt almost devoid of any ‘I feel normal’ moments (thanks to a won’t-quit womb that had set its button to self-destroy), I decided to it’s-nearly-Friday treat myself with a solo trip to just-up-the-road Leaf, trotting heeled feet mere minutes up the road, and turning right upon entering to nestle self into floral sofa for some self-gifted RnR.

Perusing menu after asking for a (what else but) English Breakfast Tea, I responded to the question of choice with before snapping away at my ‘Where there is tea there is hope’ emblazoned pot (no ‘what is she doing?’ looks here), and leaning head back to take in green-light-shade-dotted ceiling through quizzical, let’s-take-it-all-in-eyes.

With the appearance of my sarnie came the reignition of took-a-backseat hunger, fingers poised to delve right on in and tackle harissa-mayo covered surface, head bobbing to the music serenading break with an eclectic rhythm pacing through fast and slow, mouth split into shapes that danced merriment and glee across furrowed-brow-be-gone face.

Pondering the indulgence of such a surely-I-shouldn’t-be-doing-this occasion, I brushed self-stabbing thoughts of the hang-head-from-neck (‘boy am I frustrated with YOU’) variety into the too-slim-for-prying-fingers crevices of my mind, deep breathing ‘woah nelly, steady on now’ echoes of ‘you are the protagonist of your very own, no-one-can-fill-the-pages-but-you book’ before attuning back into the hum-with-human (a raised voice here, a punctuate-the-air note there, a clattering of china way back where) of my ‘come on now, eat your sandwich. Enjoy your sandwich’.

Clocking minutes, I jostled self back into the hour-long-me-time of my mid-day, head turning to briefly people-watch those dodging and weaving outside the window, before un-elegantly squeezing out between the two set-close tables, and making way to the counter, removing un-heard-of-to-have cash from purse and heading down-steps-and-out to make way back to afternoon hours at my desk.

LifeToriLeaf, ManchesterComment