coffee shops for sad people

I will be the first to admit, I have a chronic inability to sleep properly. It's been a problem for as long as I can remember, with the very worst of it occuring in my mid-teens when I was also struggling in school, and had very little reason to get out of bed in the morning.

I'd lay awake and restless for hours, trying my hardest to fall asleep but itching for something to preoccupy me, finally passing, sleeping through my alarm, being too demotivated to get out of bed when I finally awoke at 11AM, and eventually rising at two or three in the afternoon only for the whole cycle to start all over again.

These days, I have a 9-5; I can't really afford to slide back into those old habits. Nonetheless, my body tries it's very hardest – leaving it until the very last minute to roll out of bed and into the shower. I've spent way too much on taxis as of late – not out of necessity (there's a perfectly adequate bus which takes me door-to-door), but out of... exhaustion. Waking up early is hard.

And yet, I resent the idea of early nights and early rising: it's these late nights that I find myself most productive. I sat up until 2AM recently writing a document for a project I'm working on for my dayjob – not because it was overdue, nor were deadlines deadlines looming: Instead I found myself captured by a desire to get out of bed and do something – a feeling that I've never experienced during daylight hours.

During these late, passionate nights, I find myself pining for somewhere to go, be alone, and be productive. Sure, I have my flat, but there's something about donning a coat and gloves and braving Edinburgh's harsh winter evenings that just makes me want to achieve things.

And so, here I find myself in Kilimanjaro Coffee (Nicolson Street, Edinburgh – quality coffee, great sandwiches, open till 8pm), drinking a long black (that I know will keep me up until the early hours, if not all night), writing a completely different blogpost than the one I intended to write tonight and feeling completely at peace with the world whilst doing it.

I'm a sappy romantic, I know.

I ended up writing a follow-up to this post which you can read here.


The soundtrack to this ramble is Marika Hackman's “Cigarette”. The whole album is a phenominal example of firey lesbian alternative rock and is definitely worth your time.