Right now, I’m sitting at a special café in a special city, having a very special coffee. It’s called Glitch; it’s in Tokyo; it’s highly rated and recommended by a friend.
I had to queue 20 minutes to get in here, and I don’t believe in queuing. But I did, and it was worth it. They let me smell all the beans before picking my roast. The flavors are exquisite. And the coffee is about as smooth as it can be.
The place has a nice vibe as well. The Beatles are playing in the background on an analog sound setup with big speakers. Triptych paintings of samurais grace the otherwise bare walls, and the old, yellow lamps make me feel like I’m in the year 1920.
To top it all off, this is my second cup of joe after nearly five months of abstinence. Special, special, special.
It’s amazing to write in this kind of setup—but anyone can do it. It’s easy to feel inspired when you’re pampered. Mastery is writing in the wrong chair when your back is hurting, after a bad night of sleep, and with only a few minutes to spare.
Special is nice—but special is optional. That’s the important part to remember. Enjoy special when it floats your way, but don’t make it a requirement. You can do what you need to do anytime, anywhere, and under any conditions.
