I was in the hospital all last week (food poisoning from a health food store no less!) and the otherwise perfectly splendid nurses wouldn’t let me have any coffee. I snuck out of my room on the third day, clinging to my IV pole, in search of the cafeteria. I had already put in a call to a friend “on the outside” to sneak some coffee in to me but hadn’t heard back from her and I was getting head-achy.
There were security cameras at every turn. I always feel I’m the one who they’ll be watching. The one who stands out in some weird way, “Keep an eye on that one in the big brown fuzzy bear robe.” I found the cafeteria but chickened out. On the seemingly long walk back to my room I began to regret my hesitation, knowing that momentarily I would be back in that tiny room, whining. To my right I caught a glimpse of the nurses break room. “Oo, my radar is good.” And there on the counter were coffee urns with gourmet labels all lined up like obedient little servers. No hesitation this time. I hung a hard right, blatantly charging forth beneath the all-seeing black globe in the ceiling, grabbed a cup, filled it, and even took a little time for a splash of cream. Ahhhh. It’s the simple things. Where’s that Espresso Ambulanz when you need it?
I’m back home now and FEELING GOOD, “It’s a new dawn it’s a new day, it’s a new life, for meeeee.”
So Sylvie 
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