Coffee Nomad

“You don’t appreciate what you have until it’s taken away from you.”

I forgot my trusty to-go mug at home today, which didn’t occur to me until it was far too late to turn the car around. My sorrow was short-lived however, as I remembered that there is always coffee available in the main break room (as long I or another responsible employee makes it).

That is, there was always break room coffee — until today, when the break room Folgers ran out. The only thing left was a despondent, rusty old can of Kirkland Decaf.

I realized this during my first coffee break of the day, about two hours into my shift. I thought this would be the end of me (or at least the day). Then I remembered the other break room (the one that hardly anyone uses)!

Much to my delight, there was coffee already prepared, waiting there for me in that blessed caffeinated oasis. And, judging by the charcoal build up on the edges of the pot, the coffee had been waiting for me quite awhile.

But I didn’t care. It looked so beautiful I could have kissed it. I was about to do exactly that, but that red heater switch meant that this probably would cause me considerable pain. So I settled for skipping back to my cubicle with coffee in hand, complete with chemically altered creamer and bleached sugar.

It’s little things like this that help me get through the day.