My First World Problems

Day three of total and utter absurdness has arrived. Yea. That’s right. Day three of letting my mind stay in the shit storm of doubt it’s created …

I woke up this morning, all snug and content, laying in his arms. Breathing beside him. Feeling his chest rise and fall, his hands move gently, slowly over my bare skin. I felt myself sink further into him every time I exhaled. And I was good. Really good. And then, like that God damn fucking irritating holiday song that no one wants to hear even one time, it happened … and I started thinking about something bad. WTF is wrong with me?

See I should be writing about coffee. Not my insecurities. Coffee? Well, yea … sidebar here, because I find this one of the most irritating things that exists—total First World problem, I know … see when I order a cappuccino, I expect it to be a cappuccino. Not a f’king latte with a bunch of bubbles on top that don’t resemble foam and will dissipate within five seconds. No. I expect foam so damn deep and thick that a tiny elf could ice skate on it. Am I asking for too much here people? Cue the twin-tailed siren TRAIN YOUR DAMN BARISTAS BETTER. 

Caveat, not all of the baristas suck … I have made some solid friends behind the espresso bar who know how I like it and what I like and they NEVER disappoint : ) HEY, I’m talking about coffee here peeps, I know what that sounded like but seriously, no sexual reference there at all. I swear.

Anyway … if this day turns out to be even half as messed up as my brain is right now, well then, it should be one for the record books. Or CNN, at the very least : ) Stay tuned.

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