When I wake up in the morning, feel that random pause inside my chest, I smile and feel for the skipped beat with the tips of my fingers. It is, indeed, palpable this morning, but there is nothing to do about that, so I climb out of bed and shower and dress and spill myself into the rainy and gray-skied morning. It is awesome, really, to be so very aware of how my heart is beating, to feel the pressure of each beat against the tips of my fingers, to not take for granted the awesomeness of my heart.

Today my friends (baristas and bartenders) are buying me free drinks, and while I have supposedly given up coffee, I find myself enjoying a delightful americano and taking note of the fact that my heart is beating faster after a few sips, which is making the random pause a little more pronounced—enough so that I sometimes press the palm of my hand over my sternum and absentmindedly hold my breath.

I am on a stretch of ten days off, because that’s how super awesome my life is. I am exploring new places to eat, new places to drink, new places to relax and observe the world around me. Today I’m in a coffee house in a rapidly-changing part of town where the condo boom is still booming and where my barista friend is slipping me free americanos. It feels, finally, like winter in Seattle with the gray and the rain and the oft-seen Gore-Tex jackets sliding past the window through which I am viewing the cold and wet world outside.

Yesterday, when I got home from work, I went shopping and bought a bunch of gear to take with me to Haiti. I am probably going to be deployed there within the next two weeks because I am one of several amazing people on a disaster medical team. After, I stopped in a coffee house where my barista friend was working and drank espresso and read news on my iPhone and donated $10 to the American Red Cross by way of a text message. Today I read CNN and find out that more than $8 million dollars has been raised this way, and I think: We are a super awesome people!

And we have what I think is a super awesome president, who has been a super awesome president for almost a year now.

After my first espresso is gone, my friend slides me another one, and when I check my heart, the pause is gone—or simply un-palpable in this particular moment—and I take slow sips and savor the deliciousness of this little cup of goodness. Later, in just a few hours, I will spill myself onto the raining concrete outside and find my way to the pub where my bartender will buy me free drinks—because I am super awesome that way.