There’s still no internet at my apartment, and I’m going crazy.
The kind of crazy where you’re bleary eyed, foaming at the mouth, and laughing uncontrollably.
Ok, maybe just the laugh uncontrollably part.
To seek respite, I head over to the Tar Pit.
It’s an adorable tiny coffee shoppe tucked away from the main hubbub.
There are tables along the windows, from which you can peer out at the pedestrians.
I love it.
I could sit there all afternoon, listening to chatter of hip artists and playwrights, sipping sweet sweet internet.