Another day begins. Raining, though it didn't start that way. It feels as though the day does not truly set forth until my steps find the hall outside my door. Until then, I am caught in this state between sleep and reality. My only connection to the outside world, the world wide web (and some sense of reality that offers).
But now it is time to grace the outside world with my presence. To spend another day overexerting myself and feeling far too much like I am so underappreciated and overworked, like no one in the world could possibly know how much stress I am constantly under. I am a barista, I serve your coffee-a real fucking martyr!

Caffeine, anyone?