Steamed milk has a pleasant, soothing aroma.

Maybe all it is only that work has become such a comfortable place for me. A safe haven if you will.

The scent of cinnamon buns or pie invades the air daily. It escapes from the oven and attacks me, permeating my hair and clothing.

I carry the scent home with me. It makes me hungry.

My favorite thing to do is people watch. It is amazing how many people seem to think I am simply a coffee machine. Deaf and blind to their lives.

A young couple comes in. They stand devestatingly close to one another. They order americanos like most other yuppie couples.

I see his hand close over hers. I can't help but smile. I bask in their glow, their happy coupledom.

It makes me wonder where my knight in shining armour is.

Why?

Because he's late. I've already saved myself.