the super, the postman and the barista

most days are up, and some days are down. the last few have tended downward for me, and this morning started out about the same. you know: the sluggishness, the extreme morning hunger that you have no real interest in satisfying, the apathy toward work, the resentment against those dishes that still haven't washed themselves, and the expectation that all the little things of the looming day are probably going to conspire to make you feel a whole lot worse.

so, when i cross paths with my super at the elevator this morning, i'm surprised that his usual, genuinely happy hello seems to make the teeny-tiny, dingy elevator feel rather refreshing and roomy.

then, as i'm heading past the park to the coffee shop, the postman (whom i've never seen before) calls out cheerily from across the street. there's something about a kind smile jumping out from under a bushy moustache that i find impossible not to smile back at.

and now, before i can finish placing my order, one of the familiar baristas places a mug of frothy hot chocolate on the counter in front of me. (he must have started making it as soon as i'd walked through the door.) i'm told it's on-the-house. and when i look down, i see that the chocolate syrup's been uncharacteristically swirled into the shape of two dotted eyes and one big, long smile.

within the span of ten minutes, the plan that Morning Expectation had made for me has gone seriously awry. and it's not long before i remember that today is Graham's birthday. my big brother, who passed away some seven years ago. and who's managed, ever since, to resurface in surprisingly concrete and timely ways. this time (i like to think, at least), through a superintendent, a postman and a barista. hot chocolate may never have tasted so good. happy birthday, Buddy.

and now back to translating...