One of the perks at work is that the company picks up the coffee tab from the cafe across the way. It’s a very very nice perk and much appreciated but everyone here.

Every morning someone will ring the cafe and put in the coffee order, and the coffee man will walk over a little while later with a towering tray of the requested coffees. They come with names on them too, so not to mix up the trim with the soy or the coffee with the hot chocolates, and everyone happily gets what they ordered.

It appears, though, that ‘Elly’ sounds a bit different to how it’s spelt. This morning I am ‘Elli’. Yesterday I was ‘Elley’. I’ve also been Ally, Alley, Ali, Eli, and Ellee.

But I don’t get too down about it – being dyslexic sucks, so I totally empathise with the coffee maker across the way. And I really don’t have the heart to correct them – the coffee guy is really sweet to walk over several times a day, and he always stays to chat a bit.

Besides, it’s getting to the point where every time I order a hot chocolate I’ll sit and wait in anticipation of the quiet giggle that will come when I discover another absurd spelling of my name. :)

Tags: work