I’m having one of those rare mornings where I reach the bottom of my first cup of coffee only to find I want more. In a cruel twist of fate, the coffee in this building could only be described as “good” if served during wartime, in a foxhole with a raging battle taking place just 10 feet away. Under those conditions, you might find yourself saying, “Hey, given the circumstances, this is pretty good coffee!”
Under these circumstances; with the benefit of filtered water, and a lack of gunfire, the only appropriate reaction to our localized version of coffee is; wincing.
























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