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By Pam Hersh
In honor of Valentine’s Day, I declare my love for something that has sustained and inspired me during the darkest days of the pandemic: my morning cup of coffee.
I value not only the caffeine and flavor of the coffee that keeps me awake through countless Zoom meetings, but also the ritual of going to one of Princeton’s fine coffeehouses and conversing with the friendly baristas who know what I want on those days when I am too sleep-deprived to speak coherently.
My friends say I should make my own coffee – that it is not worth the COVID risk at my advanced age to expose myself to other breathing humans in a closed space. Undaunted, I don my two masks, two sweatshirt hoods, two coats, sunglasses and, looking like a hazardous waste handler, I venture forth into the risky, germ-filled world of waiting in line for my coffee.