Like much of America, I stayed up late watching the election returns, weeping at Obama’s moving acceptance speech and wondering what campaign official decided that the McCains should all wear yellow.
As a result of my addiction to the campaign coverage, I was up until after 1am and got up at 6am. (Call me a bad mom, but I let Lewis stay up, until 1am, too. Some things are more important than being well-rested at school.) Anyhow, simple subtraction (which I find challenging even under ideal conditions) reveals that I only got about 5 hours of sleep. So, I was really looking forward to my morning coffee. But there wasn’t any. We were out.
In our house, the coffee is my job. I shop for it, I grind the beans, I brew it. That’s because I am the one who has the full-blown caffeine addiction. I wake up every morning with a headache that can only be quelled by three cups of coffee consumed in rapid succession. So, when I discovered that the coffee canister was empty, I rummaged through the cabinets and the recesses of the freezer hoping to unearth a few ancient coffee beans stashed and forgotten -even flavored coffee beans stashed and forgotten. No luck.
At 6:15, it was too early to call my next-door neighbor to borrow coffee and 45 minutes until the grocery store opened. I was desperate – but not proud. So, I dug the coffee filter from yesterday’s pot out of the kitchen garbage, scraped the grounds into a fresh filter, measured out four cups of water and fired that Mr. Coffee up. Ugh.
Yesterday Starbucks gave out free cups of coffee to anyone who said that they voted. I voted. Now, I want my cup of coffee.