The morning hustle and bustle has officially begun. The drones line up one after another to get their daily fueling. Like gas powers a car, caffeine powers the people. They look fatigued. Her eyes are puffy. His eyes are half open. These people appear dead, out of sorts, dazed and confused. Perhaps sleep is not something these addicts have experienced. She orders dirty chai tea latte with two extra shots of espresso and four pumps of hazelnut syrup. He orders an iced vanilla coffee. I witness these behaviors because I am the scientist, watching my experiment to see how it unfolds. Will my hypothesis come true or will I have to account for variables? I don't appreciate the price of that $4 specialty drink that I could make infinitely better. After all, I too used to be a barista. I order a regular coffee but add chocolate. The poor gal's mocha. The barista didn't call "Carmen" as I expected. She instead yelled, "coffee with mocha." I add some half and half, a dash of vanilla, cinnamon, cocoa and nutmeg. Yeah, why not? I like to take risks. I can make my own specialty drink thankyouverymuch. I had originally purchased this coffee as a crutch, to support my lack of sleep from a late night with my lover. But by the time the concoction caresses my lips, I've already awakened. Just as the morning glory opens up for the dewy dawn, my mind has revived. At this point, my consumerism allows me a critically acclaimed spot in the cafe so I can have a spot to type ferociously. So here I am. At least it's Tuesday.