As I sit in my little corner table at Starbucks looking around at the eclectic bunch of people sharing my oxygen, I can’t help but wonder, “Why on earth am I here?”
The short answer is that I am here waiting on my triple tall espresso with one Splenda, the nectar of the gods and the reason that I am able to make it through each day. As sacred as my perfect piping cup of Starbucks coffee is and as happy as it will make me, I must tell you, I am peeved. Peeved by the fact that to get my slightly sweet black coffee with a punch, I have to endure yappy morning people, some weird pop/indie music and a very loud bean grinder, all before 8 a.m.