A Great Cup of Coffee

This morning I decided that I deserved a cup of Starbucks coffee while I ran errands. I was still groggy from my Valium-induced sleep from the night before and I was shaking off the tale end of a fever--courtesy of the girl petri dish that I gave birth to a year ago. I felt that the $1.55 cup of coffee was totally justified. Plus Starbucks coffee gives me a caffeine buzz that I can't seem to brew by myself at home.
As I entered the store I was followed by a woman who was on the ripe side of middle aged dressed in workout clothes. I ordered "whatever your darkest roast is today, tall" from the female behind the counter and stepped aside. I was about to do the usual battle in my head about whether or not to use half-and-half in my coffee (there is a angel in my head that says yes and a devil in my post-baby pooch that says no), when a lanky male from behind the counter stepped up to help the woman behind me and nervously began, "remind me again..." The woman took her cue and recited, "caramel on the top, caramel on the bottom, low fat milk macchiato in between, no foam, no sugar, 192 degrees." Now, I usually mind my own business, but I could not help but turn to her and give her my best "having fun with that mental illness?" smile.
While I was doctoring up my steaming cup of coffee with a Splenda and no cream...devil one, angel zero...I realized I had a choice. I could so easily think that this woman was what is mostly wrong with the world. Well, besides George Bush and the fact that Lindsay Lohan gets more CNN time than the refugees in Darfur. My other choice was to realize this: The universe provides us with situations like these to carry around in our heads in case there is nothing funny on TV that night.

Good morning to you all.