When I was single and new to freelancing, I had a specific vision of what my work day would entail. I would rise - note: not wake, rise, as in greeting the brand new day with a Sealy Posturpedic style stretch, looking grateful and excited for the day - then indulge in some yogic-style stretches before heading to my sunlit courtyard for an exquisitely brewed coffee which would naturally infuse my body and mind with inspiration, with every sip. Then it would be time for a few hours of work, before I shut down the laptop and prepared a small feast.
The reality is somewhat different. I wake in an ammonia-scented pool (night-time toilet training is not progressing so well, which wouldn't be a problem if my three-year old acknowleged that she had her own bedroom), with the six-month old's foot in my mouth (it's as if she felt left out, being the only family member not in the bed). The wee-smell does battle with the stench of the dog's blanket issuing from their basket, which works better than smelling salts for a fainting Victorian heroine. It's not a gentle awakening, but it does serve to boot me out of bed - anything to get some fresh air. Then it's a series of Groundhog Day arguments with the toddler ('no, you can't watch a movie now. No, you can't have chocolate now. No, you can't wear a snowsuit today. Because it's 30 degrees outside and not snowing. I don't know - we live in Johannesburg and it never snows. Also you don't own a snowsuit....Because if you don't brush your teeth they will fall out...') and struggles with the baby to get her fed, clothed and nappied. I was surprised to learn that a six-month-old can have the strength of a rottweiler on Red Bull. Note there is no time for Zen-type inspiration in this scenario...and, if I were to open a laptop, it would be swiftly appropriated by the toddler who would insist that she had her own, pressing deadline to attend to (which would, in all probability, involve spilling milk on my keyboard and then pulling faces at herself on YouCam).
Hence my search for the perfect coffice, which I believe I have found in Motherland. Here's what I love about it:
1. The coffee. The coffee, the coffee. Obviously. A coffee shop is only as good as it's brew, and I really really love the full-flavoured blend here.
2. It being Jo'burg, and Jo'burg being small, you can always find someone you know to have a chin wag with. This alleviates that guilty feeling you get when you are supposed to be working but aren't - because, after all, you are actually here to work, and this is just a small diversion to clear your mind and make room for extra creativity. It's necessary. Think of it as a mental palate cleanser.
3. Almost everyone else here is for a meeting or to work on a freelance project, which creates a 'we're all in this together' vibe,
4. The background chatter, which makes a refreshing break from the isolated silence of a freelancer's life.
5. Free wi-fi! (After all, freelancing can be a tough gig.)
6. Fournos is just a quick stroll away. Which means that Jo'burg's best spanakopita and croissants are
within easy reach.
The reality is somewhat different. I wake in an ammonia-scented pool (night-time toilet training is not progressing so well, which wouldn't be a problem if my three-year old acknowleged that she had her own bedroom), with the six-month old's foot in my mouth (it's as if she felt left out, being the only family member not in the bed). The wee-smell does battle with the stench of the dog's blanket issuing from their basket, which works better than smelling salts for a fainting Victorian heroine. It's not a gentle awakening, but it does serve to boot me out of bed - anything to get some fresh air. Then it's a series of Groundhog Day arguments with the toddler ('no, you can't watch a movie now. No, you can't have chocolate now. No, you can't wear a snowsuit today. Because it's 30 degrees outside and not snowing. I don't know - we live in Johannesburg and it never snows. Also you don't own a snowsuit....Because if you don't brush your teeth they will fall out...') and struggles with the baby to get her fed, clothed and nappied. I was surprised to learn that a six-month-old can have the strength of a rottweiler on Red Bull. Note there is no time for Zen-type inspiration in this scenario...and, if I were to open a laptop, it would be swiftly appropriated by the toddler who would insist that she had her own, pressing deadline to attend to (which would, in all probability, involve spilling milk on my keyboard and then pulling faces at herself on YouCam).
Hence my search for the perfect coffice, which I believe I have found in Motherland. Here's what I love about it:
1. The coffee. The coffee, the coffee. Obviously. A coffee shop is only as good as it's brew, and I really really love the full-flavoured blend here.
2. It being Jo'burg, and Jo'burg being small, you can always find someone you know to have a chin wag with. This alleviates that guilty feeling you get when you are supposed to be working but aren't - because, after all, you are actually here to work, and this is just a small diversion to clear your mind and make room for extra creativity. It's necessary. Think of it as a mental palate cleanser.
3. Almost everyone else here is for a meeting or to work on a freelance project, which creates a 'we're all in this together' vibe,
4. The background chatter, which makes a refreshing break from the isolated silence of a freelancer's life.
5. Free wi-fi! (After all, freelancing can be a tough gig.)
6. Fournos is just a quick stroll away. Which means that Jo'burg's best spanakopita and croissants are
within easy reach.
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