Wake Up and Smell the Turkish Coffee
Waking up is a pain in the ass. That’s why god gave us Turkish coffee.
I opened my eyes and yawned loudly. I didn’t feel rested, at all. I had another one of the nightmare trainings, which were exactly what it said on the tin. Nightmares that train you. I rubbed my eyes. Couldn’t remember exactly what the dream was this time, something about urban ops? Containing civilian unrest maybe?
Unrest was the exact word to describe me. Unrested.
I stood up and slapped my phone a bunch of times to make me coffee. Not the actual phone itself, rather the app that controlled the smart coffee-maker I had installed last month. It was a gift from one of my clients, a local little factory that made these monstrosities. It ground the coffee beans right then and there
