Coffee and Cake

I've started lectures this week and already I've lapsed into thinking that coffee and cake counts as a nutritionally balanced lunch and sparknotes is legitimate seminar preparation. A recipe for a first class degree if ever I saw one. Sat in class today faced with a sheet full of words like 'paronomasia' and a head full of post-rum hangover I wondered how I ever managed those 9ams last year. Clearly once you reach second year the shit hits the fan, or at least the alcohol hits the liver. I struggled to tie a sentence together that would eloquently describe my feelings for Shakespeare and his wordplay, every time I tried it ended in knots. I am bawd of his bawdy puns already (see what I did there ;) and I can feel my to do list growing, a pregnant moleskine diary about to pop out triplets to someone very unprepared. I need a brain spring clean. Thank God for caffeinated frothy things, you will see me through with your delicious awakening powers. It is you that makes me feel one rung higher than 'zombie' on the ladder of life and it is to you I dedicate this post...

Me and Cheg have decided to take on the hard and arduous task of locating the best coffee in the capital. We will of course struggle through the smog, commute through the crowds and wander through the wastrels of this city to discover that elusive 'Damn fine cup of coffee'. We began our search close to home at the fantastically named Daily Grind in Spitalfields, the location is perfect for people watching as Liverpool street may as well be juxtaposition junction; pinstriped professionals passing hipper-than-thou indie kids, attractive beardy types with artistic aspirations passing judgement on the three-piece-suiters with their spreadsheet jammed briefcases. And vice versa.
We wiled away a good hour or so there, sipping cappuccinos and nattering like there's no tomorrow. The actual coffee was very good but the service left much to be desired, I know I didn't order a smile but jeez that scowl sure wasn't tasty. Also they had no toilet and my bladder, being fuller than a catholic church on a Sunday in 1950's Dublin, was fairly unimpressed (and pained) by this fact. So even though they make a good cup of joe, The Daily Grind is not winning many points in my book...the search continues!