Hot in a timolino; no added things (though I was tempted to add milk).
This is/was the last of my work teas to be drunk, and I had it on the walk home. It was really good; sticky cinnamon sugar icing/glaze. The last little bit was especially sweet and thick and creamy. There were moments when I more so got cinnamon bun and vanilla icing and moments where I got cream cheese and spice cake.
My walk home from work was kind of interesting though. Abdul, one of the cashiers who was let go, stayed late after work today (he was off at nine, and I was off at ten) and walked home with me. He only lives two blocks from me, so it’s not like it was out of his way, but it was a kind of nice thing to do, I guess?
It’s a little sad his last shift is tomorrow. He’s a sweet kid…
God! How old does that make me sound? He’s only two years younger than me (and I’m not that old to begin with) but there’s such a maturity gap. I sound ancient when I refer to people as “kids” when they’re teenagers.