So this morning... not so good.
Woke up on time. So much on time, in fact, that I decided to reward myself with a little snooze-button action. Just a little bit - just once. Then I would get up.
Now running 15min late. DAMN THE SNOOZE. DAMN YOU AND YOUR SEDUCTIVE SLEEP CALL.
Run around and get ready. Realize it is not responsible to drop a small fortune daily for a creamy delicious Starbucks latte when have perfectly functional, easy-to-use coffee maker at home.
(Ignore obvious fact that $20/lb coffee pods are way more expensive than Starbucks... coffee from home avoids the temptation of yummy, fat-laden pastries.)
(In fact, cost does not matter - look, we can make coffee-pods at home with secret tricks of coffee pod creation conveniently discovered online! That's right, we're kickin' it Martha-style...)
(And when I say 'we', I mean 'Heron'. I'm not, like, crafty.)
(Why does this article make so many jokes about Senseo explosions? Exploding kitchen appliances are NOT FUNNY.)
(Wait, what was I talking about again? Oh right...)
So, I realized that while the coffee maker had maybe 3 buttons and therefore would be hard to fuck up, it was also before 7:00 AM and pre-coffee. Must proceed very carefully...
(How ironic is it that in order to GET coffee, you must first operate heavy machinery? Machinery which should carry a warning label: WARNING DO NOT ATTEMPT BEFORE CAFFEINE?)
(Literary types might call this foreshadowing.)
Ali's Coffee-Making Process
- Look for coffee maker. Coffee maker - check.
- Look for pods. Coffee pods - check.
- Pods are NON-CAFFEINATED. WHY THE HELL DO WE HAVE COFFEE WITHOUT CAFFEINE?! WHAT IS THE POINT?! Look for pods WITH CAFFEINE, dammit.
- Still looking for caffeinated coffee pods. WTF?! Is this the Twilight Zone?
- Finally... caffeinated coffee pods - check. (And all is right with the world.)
- Add water.
- Lots of water, just in case. Not really sure how much is necessary. Attach water holder back on machine.
- Look at that! Little marks, telling you how much water is needed! Little marks... way, waaaayy below the current level of water. Fear explosions of scalding water; pour water out.
- Try to fit travel coffee mug under spout. (Don't understand why Heron always uses a regular coffee mug when you then have to put it in travel mug in order to, you know, travel with it? Tsk! Such waste!)
- Travel mug doesn't fit. Use regular mug.
- All ready... time to press the button!
- Nothing happens. Press button again.
- I am PRESSING the button with the PICTURE OF A COFFEE MUG on it... and yet, nothing happens.
- Oh - haha! Coffee maker is not on. Turn coffee maker on. Now press little cup button.
- Coffee maker is making funny hissing sounds! It's ALIVE!
- But where is the coffee? Press little cup button again...
- Coffee is coming out! ... and uh, spraying the entire kitchen... what happened?! Try desperately to catch spurting coffee with coffee mug...
Yes, my life is a network sitcom. After mopping up the spilled coffee (thank God I hadn't pressed the button with TWO coffee mugs), I figured it out: apparently there is a little plastic piece whose sole purpose is to assure that the coffee spurts in a lovely, controlled fashion into the cup, rather than anywhere but. And - you guessed it! - I did not, in fact, insert the little plastic piece into the coffee maker. Grrr...
Now, most people happening upon an angry Ali, mopping up spilled coffee WHICH MEANS SHE COULD NOT DRINK IT before 7:00 AM, would wisely say nothing. But Heron is a boy, and in typical male fashion, began to lecture me about the appropriate use of said coffee maker. Since I had done almost everything (mostly) right, with just one small mistake AND DEAR LORD DID I MENTION IT WAS BEFORE 7 O' CLOCK IN THE MOTHERFUCKING MORNING... I may have over-reacted a tiny bit. Which lead to a large argument about the exact level of coffee the mug was supposed to contain and exactly how much my mug differed and whether I should make another cup of coffee... until I realized it was now after 7:00 AM and I was officially VERY LATE. And so I stomped off to the gym.
If you made it this far into this long-ass entry, you may have the feeling that this morning I was extraordinarily (and a bit irrationally) angry. You would be correct. I fumed the entire subway ride, playing angry shouting music on my iPod (in order to properly heighten and sustain the anger). I marched all the way to the gym door, fully intending to open that gym door with the energy and purpose which suited my irrational mood and angry shouting music, and then go POUND THE HECK out of the nearest treadmill, because that would show the world not to mess with me! Yeah!
Too late. The door, which is very heavy and solid, had already met its match earlier in the day. The thick metal handle was torn almost fully off; so I pulled it open very gingerly, and quickly slid through. The girl at the desk, noting my inquisitive (and slightly scared) look, spoke up. "That happened this morning. Apparently the guy from the laundry service, who delivers the towels, is kinda brutal and angry."
Lesson of the day? Don't mess with the man who delivers the towels, because... damn.