This office has one perk that almost makes me want to keep a steady job. They have one of those fancy coffee machines, where whole coffee beans wait in a clear cylinder on top, just waiting to be freshly ground to create you the finest, freshest coffee available outside of a coffee shop. There are flavors like Mocha and French Vanilla. There’s both regular coffee and cappuccino that tastes so close to real espresso that I briefly considered fainting the first time I tasted it. There’s even decaf, which is just silly, and a delightful hot chocolate for those people who don’t get pleasure from bouncing around in their cubicles like a ping pong ball. It’s just about perfect.

The only problem with this machine is that I have absolutely no resistance to it. I can’t walk in or near the kitchen without being called by its Siren’s song. I have been drinking some serious coffee this week. I mean, like Seattle levels of coffee. The machine is preying on my weak immunities. I gotta see if there is a vaccine for this.