my clothes are hanging
on the clothesline: A green Starbucks apron, a shirt promoting New York, and a cycling jersey. That about sums up my present state of mind.

When i first started working at Starbucks, i thought that i'd taken a step down by working at a place requiring a uniform. It couldn't be a grownup job if I had to wear closed toe shoes, khakis, black or white oxford or polo, and an apron. But then i remembered the other jobs requiring uniforms :: firemen, nurses, doctors, policemen, chefs -- all of the occupations that we envisioned as children.

There's something very tangible about jobs requiring props and/or uniforms. i'm currently in a place where i'm happy to be able to define my activities with external symbols.

CEOs, mailroom clerks, and managers have the same stuff hanging out to dry. yawn.