Coffee this bad could only have been served in a hospital, he was sure of it. Despite that fact he found himself taking yet another sip before returning his attention to the chart that sat on the desk in front of him. How much longer was Romano going to keep this power struggle with Weaver up? It wasn't like either of them were going to change how they did things and in the meantime it seemed the only ones suffering were the patients because of the short staffing, and him, because of having to take on her shifts in addition to his own. The thought was not one that was a welcome one, and without thinking he downed another swallow of the coffee from the cup sitting beside the chart he was working on. He'd had worse, and what were his alternatives? Sure, he could make the trip across the street to Doc Magoos, or he could make a fresh pot, but, both would mean getting up, and the truth was he was far too tired to put that much effort into it. It wasn't like the coffee was going to kill him.
He took another sip, only to swipe his tongue across his teeth as he finished, it might however strip the enamel off his teeth if he drank too many cups. The thought lingered only as long as it took for him to release a breath and force his attention back onto the chart in front of him. Funny how bad coffee and hospitals seemed to go hand in hand no matter where you were, it had to be one of the world's great conspiracies. The thought prompted a slight rumble of suppressed laughter before it was washed away with another swallow of the dark brew. He was losing it, too many shifts in too few days, it was time for Weaver and Romano to make peace before he went completely insane.