We complain about our jobs. A lot, usually. There’s always something not right.

”It’s too hard”, ”It’s so demanding!”, ”It’s so ungrateful…”, ”Oh, the people I have to deal with… argh”

And yet I don’t think I’ll ever be as happy as the barista in training who, today at 8h30 at the incredibly busy Costa in Greenwich, while he was pouring my Americano, couldn’t stop singing and shaking his hips to the sound of an absolutely dreadful Maroon 5 song playing on the radio.

Inspired by this Italian pop-lover barista, I’m opening my laptop while I sit at the only table available, one with the air conditioning on full blast on top of me (which is incredibly uncomfortable), and without a single complaint I’m pledging to make this an incredibly joyful, grateful and musical morning.

Except that maybe I’ll switch my headphones on and listen to Pulp or something. I’m not ready for Maroon 5 just yet.