My typical morning routine includes coffee. I get up, measure the coffee, add water, press all the right buttons and let the coffee brew. Shower, dress and follow the aromatic scent back to the kitchen.
Today was the same as yesterday until I didn’t smell the coffee. Still not panicking, I walked back into the kitchen, thinking I forgot to press a button. Or a breaker had popped.
The coffee maker sat there in its usual place of honor, all lit up, with an empty pot. I checked all the buttons, the breaker, and the outlet. All in perfect working order. And yet, the coffee maker sat there with an empty pot, mocking me.
Panic set in. I…need…coffee. Like an addict, my palms sweaty, heart rate increasing, I stare at the empty pot wondering how it could forsake me in my time of need.
Now I’m getting desperate, I don’t have time to waste. I grab a glass measuring cup, fill it with water, set it in the microwave, and tap my foot anxiously as I wait for the water to boil.
As soon as I see bubbles, I pour the scalding water over the coffee in the brewer and smile when I see brown liquid flowing into the pot.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills my nose. My anxiety flees; I smile and pour my first cup of coffee.
Cup to my lips I laugh. Thinking how funny this is, because I’ve only been drinking coffee for a year. Well, what I call coffee. My husband laughingly refers to as coffee colored water. But, hey it works for me.