It's early in the morning and I need to my caffeine fix. Until I've had my latte any brain functionality will be severly hampered.

Staggering into "insert name of evil capitalist, exploitative coffee chain corporation" I slurr my order at the barrista. Please note, slurring is early morning induced, but could occasionally come from the hangover due to a this-week-day-is-the-new-friday party out (it seemed like a good idea at the time).

It's fascinating that the barrista understands my order despite the lack of spoken coherence. This is similar to cab drivers who somehow manage to extract your home address from your drunken attempts at understandable speech.

Armed with said caffeine dosis, I venture back to the bus stop that will take me to my final workplace destination, where the pretence of efficiency shall continue.

In the bus is where the universe's law of physics somehow are thrown into a blender because when it comes to my coffee, gravity doesn't seem to apply anymore.

Every bump the bus takes, and it seems the bus driver is actually aiming for them, manages to somehow create a coffee burst even through the tiny lid opening that's supposed to keep the whole coffee experience civilised.

But I'm so desperate for my morning fix that I'll just suckle on the coffee, just hoping that any resulting burns will not lead to permanent lip damage. After all, I can't even sue "insert name of evil capitalist, exploitative coffee chain corporation" for damages as we are in Europe.

By the time I reach my destination at least half the coffee has found its way onto my clothes.

What the heck, brown is the new black anyway ...