The days are getting longer. The wind is getting nastier, sometimes enough to blow you off the bicycle or knock you off your feet. Most of the snow has melted but you always dread opening weather.com because, well, maybe the next storm is peeping around the corner.
There are drugs to be memorized, an absurdly long laundry list of infections to commit to memory. And don't forget the zebras - your pheochromocytomas, your metachromatic leukodystrophies. Pesky undergrad neighbors are holding ragers well into the wee hours of Saturday. Don't these brats have anything better to do on a Friday night?
Who do you turn to in this time of troubles? (which, by the way, is also the name given to an awesome period in Russian history. Do check it out here if you are into that sort of thing)
Coffee. That smooth, bold liquid gold. Each drop infused with pure awesomeness. Ever sat back and just hear coffee brewing? The coffeemaker gurgles so deliciously. With each drop of fresh coffee made, it makes a deeply satisfying rich chortle. Decaffeinated coffee is an affront to human existence, a sin beyond human comprehension. But you, you know the value of the pure stuff. No creamer, no sugar. Why would you want to insult coffee? When it's all done, you take out the filter. You glance almost wistfully at the uniform mound of used coffee as you throw the filter in the trash. Can I collect it in a jar and store it? With each sip, each heavenly sip, each trouble melts away. The room smells of coffee. It smells of victory.
So here is an ode to you, coffee, the drink of the gods.
There are drugs to be memorized, an absurdly long laundry list of infections to commit to memory. And don't forget the zebras - your pheochromocytomas, your metachromatic leukodystrophies. Pesky undergrad neighbors are holding ragers well into the wee hours of Saturday. Don't these brats have anything better to do on a Friday night?
Who do you turn to in this time of troubles? (which, by the way, is also the name given to an awesome period in Russian history. Do check it out here if you are into that sort of thing)
Coffee. That smooth, bold liquid gold. Each drop infused with pure awesomeness. Ever sat back and just hear coffee brewing? The coffeemaker gurgles so deliciously. With each drop of fresh coffee made, it makes a deeply satisfying rich chortle. Decaffeinated coffee is an affront to human existence, a sin beyond human comprehension. But you, you know the value of the pure stuff. No creamer, no sugar. Why would you want to insult coffee? When it's all done, you take out the filter. You glance almost wistfully at the uniform mound of used coffee as you throw the filter in the trash. Can I collect it in a jar and store it? With each sip, each heavenly sip, each trouble melts away. The room smells of coffee. It smells of victory.
So here is an ode to you, coffee, the drink of the gods.
No comments:
Post a Comment