Last week I was on my way to work. It was a bit of a rough morning. The girls had us up early. Since I usually go to bed late I had only a few precious hours of sleep. I guess this is what they call "burning the candle at both ends." After getting up every morning at 5:30am, I don't have to tell you which end I wanted to burn! Anyway. I figured I deserved some professionally made, dark, hot, caffeinated liquid. Coffee, to be exact. So I stopped by the local Starbucks on my way to work. A friend pointed out how snobbish Starbucks has made all of us about our coffee drinks. I used to not care where it came from. For the longest time Nabob Tradition blend was high society. For a bit there even Tim Horton's would do! But these days I'm pretty exact. It has to be bought from only a select few coffee shops. The blend has to have at least three words in it. I prefer Grande. Dark roast. Four pumps of caramel syrup. Room for cream. The barrista will even show me the level of coffee in my cup and ask, "Is that enough room?" I've caught myself actually saying, "No, just a bit more. Maybe another 1/8th of an inch." It wasn't a request, it was a demand! My friend's right: we are all coffee snobs because of Starbucks.

So there I am, about to go into the shop when a lady is walking behind me, cell phone glued to her ear and carrying a briefcase. There's no way she's gonna open the door for herself, I thought. I said to her, "Here, let me get the door for you....and the inside door too." She let me hold open the door for her and she went in. I went to the counter to order my drink and, lo and behold, this lady was a higher-up with the company. She ended up paying for my drink. Awesome! What a little blessing. You do something nice and something nice comes back. I was feeling pretty good about life, the world, my cup of coffee and even the morning commute. But I still think my coffee could have used a little more room for cream.