That look, on the window of a cafe

I have been sitting at this cafe at central part of the capital since 11 am in the morning. Panic attack making me stay this long. My paper is almost due, in a week to be exact, and I have really nothing in hand that looks structured. I start to feel the anxiety kicks in.

I have been staying home last weekend because of my cold and cough, and felt better this morning, when A asked me whether I wanted to work in public space or not. Working in public space is not necessarily my hobby as I tend to concentrate well in my secluded space, where no one walks around or talks around. And of course, for economical reason, no need to order food or beverage, that can cost me a few days' meal.

Now it's nearly 6.30 pm, 2 cappucinos, a chicken cordon bleu and a pot of hot lemongrass tea after, I stare at the window outside. It's started to look like a city night life scene outside. The lights are turned on. Neon lights. Crystal lights from a crystal lights shop at the second floor of the shopping mall right across the street. I looked outside. Something is moving. A woman's head right at the window, she's walking, and she also looking inside. She doesn't see me as I look at her slow motion. I can see her carrying a sack of things. She's a scavenger. Rubbish collector.

And I suddenly feel a rush of sadness. An irony struck me a chord. This cafe is full of people sitting and chatting. Spending hundred of thousand for coffee and small bites of snack and food. And this woman, perhaps all the money that I spend today, worth her daily income. I feel quite sick of this irony. I am that middle-class, she's the lower-class. We encounter the same spot at the GPS should spots it, as Google perhaps record this encounter as spots, if she has an internet connection, if she has a gadget with her.

I don't know. I have no idea how should I feel. Or do. I can't do much now. Probably I should just concern of the inequality. When I am at the higher spot of the ladder, more than when I am at the lower spot of the ladder, like she is now. Maybe.

I remember that look now. And I don't know what to do.