Seems like I never get enough sleep. Even on Sundays when I don’t have to get up until noon, it seems like I am still groggy and grouchy when I get up.

Until I have a cup of coffee. That hot black bitter liquid is like gold. It’s like the magic potion. It’s the only thing that I look forward to when I wake up and my feet hit the floor.

Before anything else happens – and God forbid anyone is stupid enough to try to talk to me – I have to get into the kitchen and suck down that cup of Joe.
Then I can deal with the day.