I spent my lunch drinking a mocha on a bench alongside the Bay. It was nice.
I composed a poem to talk about the event:
I’m kidding.
The bench depicted in the picture is my bench. You know what I hate? When people are sitting on my bench. Granted, my name is not on it. And I don’t sit there every day. And it’s actually a 10 minute walk away from work. But still, it’s my bench.
