In Praise of the Lowly Cafe' Con Leche from Wawa

Let's just agree: A good cup of coffee can make the difference between a completely crappy day and a day that screams "I'm ready for the *world*! Come at me!" 

I had one of *those* coffees this morning, expertly devised by an unknown chef at my local Wawa. For those uninitiated in the ways of Southern America, this line of stores aspires to be the Dolce & Gabbana of 7-11's while maintaining small-town Southern charm. They stock fresh-baked pretzels that are divine, artisanal sandwiches like panini made-to-order, and sub-sandwiches on par with Firehouse and Jimmy John's. In short, they aspire to rise above just being a Quicky Mart, and better than major fast food.

I digress! Back to the inspired apple of my morning, Wawa's quiet little 16oz Cafe' Con Leche: 

Made of deep, dark espresso, brown sugar cane syrup and milk, it is frothed together into a symphony of flavors that rival the hum-drum cappuccino! 

For those who desire the rich, round flavors of Turkish coffee - Those unafraid to drink a brew that will be sure to bite back, the Cafe' Con Leche delivers, but with an unexpected twist: *It's so smooth!* Rather than gripping your tongue and wrenching at your teeth, this beverage *dances* on your taste buds, fills your oral cavity with mother's milk, and glides hot down the throat in what can only be described as oral extacy. 

Wawa stores may vary, so shop wisely. Test your local chef before deciding upon this drink of the Gods. Some make it well, others merely toss the ingredients in a cup and serve it. They key to it is in the sugar, milk, and frothing- too much and you have a frothy mess, too little, and it's flat. Just the right touch is needed to meld the flavors just so! Try getting this *late on a weekday morning*. The best chefs always work to feed the discerning office crowds, and are thus the most skilled. When you sample your first well-made Cafe' con Leche, you'll thank me! 

There's love in a cup of Cafe' con Leche. It's not just coffee and milk. It's a divine elixir. Thanks, Wawa.

 

After The Spike

 I'm laying on my bed in my silent bedroom, listening to the dog as she cleans herself as though she is a huge cat. 

It's Sunday, God's day of rest. My Urgent Care has forced all of us to take this day off because of lost, sick personnel. In this way they can concentrate the workers that are somewhat healthy to work on the days that we are open. 

The spike in Florida has deflated. In my own county, it's leaking air slowly. Less and less patients arrive, but the ones we see are sicker. Three or four in one day were transferred to the ER, and my happiness over the new antiviral has waned. It will be Christmas before it will be available. Thousands in Florida will die before it's here. Sure, there are monoclonal antibodies, but those will no longer be plentiful thanks to rationing. It doesn't matter, though, if people keep deluding themselves into thinking they've just got a bad cold. They wait too long - anything over a week could render the antibodies useless. 

I'm sad now. Not because the spike is over, but because the media is only interested in spreading stories about how low the numbers are going. It's last year all over again. Reading my accounts here from that year are telling. I kept warning and warning about the variants. Nobody paid attention, and here we are on the back end of a spike, already grinning about a healthy November. My quotes from patients "I sat between two positive people at the Thanksgiving table!" will be ringing in my ears soon enough. 

The people of the US (and Florida in particular) spent 2 years of  ignoring safety guidelines. The CDC made a tremendous mistake by saying that vaccinated people could go without masks. Nobody wants to do the right thing. 

We'll see another variant soon. It's inevitable. As Delta dies out, another will take its place. I'm almost entirely exhausted by it. 

My rent went up four months ago, from the $1200 that I couldn't afford to $1400. My credit has taken a bashing. I owe about $2000 in credit and loans. I'm done with surviving. I want to thrive. 

I'm going to try to get by as a contact tracer. I'm also resolved to take up writing, though I haven't a lot of time. I give myself a month before things go bonkers. I have to sell anything I can to hold onto this place. 

My landlord also discovered that I have a dog, so I have to tread lightly. Not sure. 

I need a change. I need something. My heart is weary, my spirits down, my rent and electric are due. I'm sad. 

Bored and Broke

 Sometimes I wonder...Why am I broke? I don't spend lavishly. I try to pay my bills. My credit is good. And yet, my paycheck never covers all of it. My rent's too high, but I cannot afford to move unless I find a good house in good area with a low rent. I'm tired of being broke. 

Fun news: someone bought my book again. $2.10 in the bank. I think I need to write more books. It was hard, but...If I wrote 250 books, and someone bought 1 of each every month, that could be $500 in my pocket. And that would help pay the rent. Yup. Time to get crackin'. 

Dawn of The Variants

 I find myself between a clinic and several variants. What to do? There's not a single vaccine appointment left in Florida. I face a daunting task: keep working unvaccinated, or catch it and die. Not the best outlook, considering that Florida now has 500 confirmed British variant cases. 

The DOH in FL tests one of every 450 cases. Soooo...Let's take a wild guess. Multiply 450 times 500 and what do you get? 255,000 cases. And that's the high end. The possibility that there could be even half of that running around Florida is mind-boggling. 100,000 cases could each infect up to 6 people. So now you're looking at 600,000...and they could infect 6 more. Each day it gets worse. 

I've done the math. By the first week of March we'll be seeing a spike arise from this like no other. It's going to get bad. By March 15, when unemployment for Floridians is due to run out, we'll be in the thick of it. Coincidentally, the new stimulus check should be sent out by then. $1400 that everyone needs...right in time to see mass mayhem erupt. 

I'm already planning to pay down my credit cards, pay off my loans, and maybe buy a new bike. What I really need is carpeting for my house...two new doors,...and a new phone. But those may have to wait.

At least I know that my manager has my back. When she asked about last year I spake the truth: I hated it. I was the crabbiest, meanest, cranky bitch. She was amazed. "Well," she said, "That's refreshing! The unvarnished truth!" She acted as though everyone else in the place had been lying their teeth off, and I'll bet they had. She gave me a 27 cent an hour raise. That brings me .27 cents above Biden's projected minimum wage. Some economist website said that if the minimum wage had kept up properly with inflation, it'd be $24 an hour. Yup. That's what I made at Globix in 1999. Screwed up. 

As you can see I'm pretty befuddled. I don't know what to make of the face of mortality that's staring me down. I guess I'll just have to muddle on.

Evil Christmas

So here we are, December 28th. Three days away from New Years Eve, the third and final nail in the COVID-19 coffin. It wasn't as though the spike caused by Thanksgiving was enough, NO! Millions of Americans willingly flew to be with their families for Christmas. "Evil Christmas" is what they will call it - No, wait: "COVID Christmas"! The Xmas to end all Xmases. From it will be born a spike on top of the Xgiving (that's my new name for Thanksgiving) spike, and atop that our Xyear's day spike will rise like The Tower of Babel, paused in a moment in time, just before it crumbles and kills uncounted tens, perhaps hundreds of thousands of innocent people. We are teetering on the brink, folks. Evil turkeys, deadly Santa, and finally a murderous New Year. It seems that the general public just couldn't care less avout it. 

I will have a front ring seat for this as it plays out, while working at an Urgent Care Center. I heard every story: "I was seated between two people who both tested positive at the Thanksgiving table! I'm 75, what can I do?!" "My grandchildren visited me on Christmas, and both just tested positive, and now I can't stop coughing!" "I'm going to visit my elderly parents, can I have one of those quick tests?"

Jesus Christ, save us. Buy your toilet paper now, people. There's going to be pandemonium by January 14th. What will I do? I'm planning to call out sick. Seriously. I'll put toilet paper up my nose and call in. Sounding stuffy, I'll say that I don't know if I have a cold, or COVID. Then I'll get tested, but have to stay out 10 more days if I test negative - or at least till I have no fever for a week. That will get me to January 21st, when Biden will be sworn in. Hopefully he'll swiftly call for all states to follow the CDC rules, my state will be forced to roll back, and my work T Urgent Care will return to March levels of patients, meaning we'll only test sick patients. 

What are your plans for "The Spike To End All Spikes"? I hope it's staying home, for all our sakes. 

Almost There...

 Friday, November 6th, 6:38pm. They're still counting the votes. Pennsylvania is almost there. Provisional votes must be counted, possibly 29,000 of the US Armed Forces, and we're done. That's at least a day or two away. Yet Biden's lead continues to increase there, in Nevada, South Carolina, and Michigan.

All this is welcome news to me, an Independent who consistently votes Democrat. Honestly, I only became an Independent so that I'd be free to choose whom I want at any time, without the strings of either party. 

So we wait. The anxiety is waning and hope replacing it, step by step, day by day. 

If Biden wins (and I think he will), there will be count after recount. It will take weeks. I guess I can wait that out, knowing what the outcome will be. At least, of the election, I mean. 

What Trump supporters will do *after* the election is decided, is another thing. Due to the COVID19 induced anger I've seen, I expect to see men and women from 35-70 out in the streets, burning and looting. Shooting guns. Grabbing people of color and murdering them. Attempts made on Democratic officials. Rioting. 

Trump won't stop them. He'll revel in it.  We won't have civilization back until Joe takes the White House. And COVID19 will kill 26,000 more people in Florida alone. 

I don't want to be alarmist, but violence, even at my clinic, is proof that the public is a bunch of dangerous animals. I'm talking white, middle class folks, trailer trash, Crackers, etc. They'll take to the streets with their anger. 

A patient (white, male, bearded, with expensive clothes and a large silver chain around his neck) threatened bodily harm on poor Yolanda, my Hispanic coworker, if he wasn't tested immediately after waiting 3 hours. So I chased him out of the clinic. Told him to get.....out. And he did, after I threatened to call the police. It was great. I loved kicking him out. 

We'll see what happens. In the meantime, there's hurricane Eta to deal with. It's not supposed to hit Tampa, but it's still a day or so away. Things change from forecast to forecast. 

We'll see. 

 

The Age of COVID19, and My Return to Blogging.

 What can I say? I've been gone a long time. I dabbled with GoDaddy, only to see my money siphoned off at regular intervals. I'm now a regular contributor on Reddit. It's a profoundly gratifying community like none I've seen since SciFi destroyed the LEXX thread. 

I'm also uhhh...8 years older. With that comes a lot of wisdom. When last I blogged here I had moved to Mastic Beach, and things were quiet. My husband finally got his settlement, and we moved to Florida.

I dabbled in several go-nowhere jobs to get along, Hubby bought a car and a motorcycle, and oh, two guns. So paying the lease on his Harley ate my earnings, and we lived hand to mouth for years. 

Finally he made a terrible mistake that cost him his life. I was left alone, except for my cats and a dog he'd adopted 2 weeks earlier. I was left penniless, for he never made a will. The car was sold to pay for his funeral, the motorcycle repossessed, and I had to deal with the funeral planning and his family. 

For a couple of years, things seemed to be getting better. Then COVID19 hit. It just so happened that I scored a job at an Urgent Care Center, and I am considered an Essential Worker. During the shut down, I kept on working. 

We've had a spike in July, and are seeing another that will undoubtedly bring America to its knees.

Florida is governed by a Republican - Ron DeSantis - who has decided that the economy is more important than the people.  So he's opened everything up. Bars, restaurants, you name it.

DeSantis just took the "individuals newly tested" out of the public's view. So now he manipulates the numbers ( he's been trying to do this all along), just to look good. Over 16,000 people have died in Florida of COV19, and we are approaching the 250,000 mark in deaths in America.  

My Urgent Care is a zoo. We began giving C19 Rapid Tests two weeks ago. As a result, we are the only rapid testing center from here to Tampa...And we're swamped. 

So here comes the spike to end all spikes, right on the heels of the election. I've already voted for Biden. Trump, with all his kindergarten name-calling, must fail. If he does not, I will take to the streets in protest. I will sleep on the steps of the government buildings and I will shout until I'm hoarse. 

I can't live like this, trapped in my home like a prisoner, fearing the government and scraping by. Thank god the election is 7.5 days away. I don't even know if I have the day off, but I intend to throw a party for myself and watch the polls all day and all night. I hope I have the next day off, too. Who knows what will happen. 

You see how life twists and turns? I hope I've got your attention again. It's going to be a wild ride.