"The less people speak of their greatness, the more we think of it."

A fellow coffee slave once said, "If you ever want to lose all faith in humanity, work in a coffee shop." Amen to that, brotha.

People are freaks when it comes to coffee.

But there are those people who make it worth it. Those people who make you smile. Those people who make your day just by existing. Those people who know that there are bigger things to care about than the temperature of their Americano (No, I won't steam your water.) Those people who restore a little bit of faith.

To those people.


Dear Short Dark,

Thank you for being happy. Thank you for ordering the simplest drink on the menu. Thank you for always asking how my day is, and for leaving weird notes for the people on shift. Thank you for always putting away your newspaper, and wiping up your coffee drips.


Dear Venti Caramel Macchiato,

Thank you for inspiring. And I agree.


Dear "double double",

Thank you for rebelling against the system. I know you know what it's called. I know you know that the cream and sugar is at the condiment stand. I love that you call it a "double double" anyway.


Dear "Merry Christmas. Have a drink on me",

Thank you for embracing the Christmas season. Thank you for giving generously. Thank you for making many a person's day.


Dear Caramel Latte,

Thank you for making me laugh. Thank you for being shocking. Thank you for stealing other people's fancy drinks, even though I have to remake them. Thank you for taking the to-stay mugs outside...and returning them on the fireplace later. Thank you for warning me about the bad weather. Even though I know you sleep in it sometimes. Thank you for being kind, despite being treated the opposite.


Dear Triple Venti extraextraextra-dry Cappuccino,

Your drink is a pain in the butt to make. Thank you for smiling. Thank you for being appreciative. Thank you for asking me what my name is.



To those people: Cheers.

 

 

 

Pen-spiration

I really like school supplies. Maybe I'm just a huge nerd, but there's something about a pack of new pens that gets me really excited...even if I have 6296585 perfectly functional pens kicking around under my bed. The new ones are always better.

 

And highlighters. I am a self-admitted highlighter junkie. I love them. I hoard them. Do I use online textbooks? Yes. Do I still require every color of the rainbow in Sharpie form? Obviously.

 

I bought school supplies the other day. The aisle with the notebooks, pencils, and binders with mysteriously massive pouches is a magical place. My favorite thing when I was a kid was getting the "needed supplies" list and raiding Wal-Mart the week before school started. I loved sharpening all my pencils, arranging everything neatly in the proper compartments, and filling binders with blank papers. And I still get that super excited back-to-school feeling when I walk down that aisle.

 

Fun story. In the mail, there was an envelope with my name on it. No note. No return address. Just a pack of Post-It notes. I LOVE Post-Its. I took it as a sign. Hit the books. Nose to the grindstone. Finals. I so got this.

Short-lived.

I still hate studying.

But now my bag is exploding with fluorescent fun. Yes.