The Blue Pig Cafe came to mind. And indeed the Blue Pig provided my late lunch, a shrimp po'boy and a winter vegetable soup. (Maybe it wasn't a true po'boy, as it wasn't made in New Orleans, and when I finally visit New Orleans I shall try one there and determine for myself, along with however else I get fed well in New Orleans, but I digress.) It was on my way. And the thought Why not? went through my head.
And I came up with a reason for going beyond the reason They make good food. The next reason was I can reclaim the place for myself.
The Blue Pig is a few blocks from the site of my previous job. The one that slowly drove me nuts last year during the 25 weeks (I kept track) I managed to work there before quitting. This was the dog show company.
A few times during those 25 weeks, I got food from the Blue Pig. Once or twice I got food to go, but a couple other times I sat down. Bad idea. I had half-hour lunch breaks at the dog show company and felt that A) asking permission to have a slightly longer lunch wouldn't work and B) asking forgiveness for a slightly longer lunch wouldn't work, either. Half an hour to get there, eat, pay, then get back to work. So I always felt rushed, in need of wolfing down whatever tasty thing I ordered. Made it harder to enjoy the lunch. Also making it harder was how I was letting the job hurt my ability to enjoy lots of things. It became a bad office for me, and back then I was having trouble acting on that. Thank everything I finally did.
But there's still the risk of that job and the effect it had on me continuing to mess with me. I've fallen into and scrambled out of that trap before, and I don't want a bad former job to rule me, same as I don't want a bad former roommate situation to rule me. I'd want to be able to go back to that neighborhood, and make use of the good parts of it and avoid the bad part. And today, I did.
I made sure to mention to a member of Blue Pig's staff that I'd gone there when I didn't have a deadline, and could take my time and enjoy the food. Made it a MUCH better experience, one I'm glad I had. I didn't tell him the whole story ("the job was making me crazy"), I just praised his cafe. And he certainly liked knowing I'd made a special trip to his cafe and taken my time there.
Something feels a little reclaimed. I know a bit of my sanity is.