Two hours of sitting with your best friend in a strangely-crowded coffee shop on a Sunday morning can do wonders. It's this kind of laid-back, low-key bonding that has forced me to drag my sorry butt through the absolute toughest of times, the worst of days, the darkest of hours...you get the idea. Time spent like this is my personal ideal version of therapy.
I never gave much thought to my little sentiment until this morning, sitting in said crowded cafe with Ciera. We were solving the problems of the world and of each other when two familiar faces walked in and sat down a few feet from us. (I'm not trying to be annoying by withholding specific names; it doesn't add any significance, I promise.) For some reason, I felt absolutely floored by this, by the fact that other people indulge in these speed therapy sessions. It makes me extremely happy to know that, in our gigantic world, at least one other pair of friends can find comfort and encouragement in a few hours spent hunched over plastic tables clutching mugs of trendy coffee.
Don't even get me started on the benefits of car therapy...or running therapy.
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