This morning I woke up and something inside said, I don’t want to get up. Then something else said, That’s just the sleep talking. You need coffee.

I don’t know about the rest of you but I know that I am much nicer a person once I’ve had my first cup of coffee. That warmth, that jolt of wakefulness makes life worth living.

I dream of coffee. I sometimes go to sleep with the anticipation that soon I’ll get to brew a cup. My favorite ritual is to wake early Sunday mornings and brew a perfect cup of my Ethiopian beans and sit in my oversized Starbucks chair, from back when they had stuffed chairs, and watch as the sun tickles the tops the trees, and golden sunlight streams through the leaves. Everything is so quiet and serene.

The dream is to share this moment with someone.

 

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