Happiness is fleeting. It comes and goes. It makes out with us behind the bar and then suddenly ghosts. It gives us the weekend or week or month of a lifetime, and then has to go back home.
You learn the procedures, you become familiar with how the different coffee tastes and what it mixes well with. It’s not some magical set of spells and incantations that you learn over high-moon ceremonies as you sacrifice a chicken with your shift manager–it’s making god damn espresso.