Sometimes I look forward to going to bed at night because I know that when I wake up, I get coffee. From a young age, I fell in love with slow mornings drinking coffee with my grandma. The bright moments of easy conversation and peaceful sips followed me to my first job at my local small business coffee shop where I served as the friendly neighborhood barista. I dedicated two years to learning and appreciating the third wave of coffee and building a special medium for conversation. Pouring swans, tulips, rosettas, and hearts, I took pride in painting miniature artworks in microfoam. I fed on the energy of the coffee shop. I watched people go back and forth, fueled by quick exchanges and doses of caffeine. Meeting people from all over the country and different walks of life, I expanded my perspective of the world and understanding of the human experience. Many customers hated coffee, but they still came time and time again for the commodity of conversation. Not to mention, the rich aroma of coffee beans perked everyone up. Thousands of aeropresses, siphons, french presses, chemexes, and pour-overs later, I hung up my apron to go study science and art outside of the world of coffee origins and latte art. However, I still begin every morning pouring a Columbian or Costa Rican chemex.