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Somebody! Anybody!! For The Love of Sanity, Give Me Coffee NOW!!!
Oh dread. Today is one of those days where I wake up tired. I crack one eye slightly open, ooze out of bed, stumble to the kitchen in search of help. (Help comes in the form of by best friend, Coffee. I only socialize with full octane, his dirty weasel of a step brother, Decaf, has no room in my life, what an impostor!) I'm trying to gather my wits enough to figure out where in Sam McCrackin' do I store the coffee?! Even though it's been stored in the same cabinet for the last seven years I'm somehow stumped. I look around blurry eyed and confused like I'm seeing my kitchen for the first time. Suddenly it comes to me that it might be in the cupboard with the words "Coffee House" emblazoned on the door. Okay, found it. I dump, oh, about 3/4 of the bag in the filter basket. Next water. I tell myself this one should be simple to find. I have a hunch it's near the sink. Sure enough, I turn a couple of knobs and voila water pours out. Feeling extremely accomplished I fill the pot. Finally everything is ready and I turn the coffee machine on. As soon as I start smelling the euphoric aroma of the brewing coffee I am filled with hope that I may actually be able to open up both of my eyes today afterall!
I sit at the kitchen table drinking my first cup of the day and I can't help but to start lovingly reminisce. Since I was a little girl I have loved drinking coffee. I started out drinking sips from my Dad's mug or Thermos. Then at family reunions I would wait until the grownups were all busy talking and then stand by the coffee maker and guzzle one cup after another. My family would always end up leaving first from these occasions which always puzzled me, I mean I thought it was really cool how I could climb to the very tippy top of a 30 foot Blue Spruce. When I was in college I perfected the "Over Nighter" pot of coffee until after just a single cup I could stay awake for 3 1/2 days and recite the Declaration of Independence backward and Forward in Pig Latin. The man I married doesn't buy me flowers, they die. He doesn't buy me candy, I only like chocolate... and only certain kinds. He knows me too well. When he wants to play Prince Charming he brings home an industrial sized bag of my favorite coffee. After he hauls it into the house with a hand truck it takes days for my smile to fade. He learned a long time ago that the fastest way to get my attention is to tuck coffee grounds in his cheeks and under his tongue.
Maybe tonight, to be on the safe side, I'll sleep with my bag of coffee so I can find it faster tomorrow morning.