I woke up like I do most mornings and let the dogs out before showering. That's the way it is; that's the routine. I work best when my routine is not interrupted. After the shower, it's treat time. Dogs and cats both enjoy this time and once the furry faces are satisfied, it's my turn to treat myself to a hot cup of the best coffee on the planet. Again, it's routine; you don't mess with it.
I popped open the top of my three-month-old K-cup coffee maker, the one I bought literally three months ago, and I stuffed in the Caribou Breakfast Blend pod because that's how you start the best coffee on the planet -- but today, it was not to be. There I was, waiting for the machine to gurgle a little, steam up the way it does, and then sort of poof out (a made-up term) the first few drips before completing its task. It has one job. I put the water in; it puts the water out. As it puts the hot water out, the hot water runs through the little K-cup through the funnel and into my cup. That's such a simple process...until it didn't happen.
At first, I second-guessed myself; could I have forgotten to pour in the water? Is that why it's not spitting out the hot brown nectar of life? Whatever it was, it wasn't spitting anything, and I was standing there staring without the ability to move because that would have required a certain amount of concentration. I only concentrate after the first few sips, so you can understand my predicament. It was grave.
I lifted the top of the thing, took out the K-cup, sort of shook it to see if it had water it in, and it did, so I dumped it out in the sink, thinking something was stuck, stopping it from making its way through to make the coffee...something had to be stuck, right? The water wasn't coming out. It may need to be cleaned with vinegar. I can do that. I have vinegar. That didn't work. Whatever it was INSIDE wasn't moving and it wasn't clearing, it wasn't getting me to the point that I could think clearly.
Plan B and Plan C are always buried in my head, so I searched my brain for whatever I could. I could make an Italian espresso with the little silver pot with the bottom that comes off, and you boil the water and pour it out...but I couldn't find the thing. Then I remembered I had donated it. Plan C works well when you can recall what it is, and after a few minutes, I remembered that the old drip coffee maker was in the garage and now, after three months, would be dirty. Still, a dirty cobwebbed pot was looking better all the time when I compared it to the possibility of having to get dressed and drive to Starbucks....my gosh, can you imagine? Lines, people, and then again, it's worth saying it again, I'd have to get my clothes on first.
The cobwebs came off pretty easily, and there I was, cutting open the tops of the K-cups to make an old-fashioned drip-style coffee for myself. It happens, but I don't like it when it does. I threw out the cute cheap machine and took my new old-fashioned coffee with me to the couch to breathe a few deep breaths before hitting up Amazon for the replacement K-cup machine that I've told myself I can't live without. (even though I lived without one for about 6 years recently.)
Looking over the choices, I let the spell of peer pressure do a number on me because my birthday was just yesterday. I bought a real brand name (Keurig) and told myself I was worth it. It wasn't that expensive. In fact, 15 years ago or so, when they first came out, it was twice as expensive as it is now. I'm good with that; life has a funny way of coming full circle occasionally. My new machine comes in tomorrow, and once again, I'll be normal, average, run-of-the-mill, and predictable. Routines are that important.
Interestingly though, when I told my friends and my kids that the damn machine had quit after only three months of use, three out of four of them said something to the effect of at least it didn't go out on my birthday. It gave me one last push before it quit -- there's that, but after only about 100 uses, it should be mentioned that I won't ever recommend that brand to anyone. I thought about donating it to an engineering student to study to see if they could fix it, but no....in this disposable world, they would likely just chuck it, too. I saved them the bother. Sigh.
Once again, I find myself believing that some things are worth the money you put out for them. You do get what you pay for in most cases. A sad but truthful fact.
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