Take Two

If it's 6 pm and I'm drinking coffee, then something must be wrong.

It's similar, I'd reckon, to a regular person having a cocktail at 10 am. In my case, though, I'm currently drinking to try and find myself, not to try and lose myself. And, sadly, it's decaf. And there's a good chance it'll be followed by a cocktail. But still, you're welcome to feel a little sorry for me if you'd like.

First of all, my coffee was terrible this morning. Something in the preparation went completely awry. I made it the exact same way I always do, and yet it was horrible: thin, weak, and with basically no redeeming qualities at all. I drank half of it and then gave up, too frustrated and too hurried to try again. I contemplated getting my hands on another coffee once I was at work, but I convinced myself that water was a better choice. I was wrong.

I was obsessed with my mistake all day. My morning's broken ritual caused me to feel like my day hadn't ever really begun, and as a result, I felt like I was spinning myself around in a hamster wheel for hours. I thought obsessively about everything I would do right when I made coffee next, everything I would do to avoid another cup of coffee that was not only reminiscent of diner coffee, but also a complete embarrassment and a day-wrecker. Once I was home, and we had gone for our out-of-sorts walk on the beach, and I had cleaned up the out-of-sorts kitchen and given Murray his out-of-sorts supper, I just couldn't take it anymore. The espresso pot taunted me and the coffee beans smelled like a miracle. And I had to have coffee. I had to try again. I had to prove that I could make a decent cup of coffee and I had to re-start my day. And I did.

So here I am now, having consumed a very civilized cup of coffee, ready to start my day. It's 6:24 pm, so I'll have to make it quick, but it can be done. I'm feeling a great deal better, more equipped then I've been for the past ten hours. I'm thinking about what Abraham Lincoln said when presented one day with a beverage by a hotel waiter: If this is coffee, please bring me some tea, but if this is tea, please bring me some coffee. 

I get that Abe, I really do. I have such little tolerance for food and drink that isn't up to par. The thing, though, is this. I really don't want the beluga sturgeon caviar and the foie gras from the fanciest goose. I just want the thing I order to be a good version of the thing it's supposed to be. And in the case of this morning, I needed to kindly ask the server (um, that would be me) to go back to the kitchen and fix the mistake. This isn't a free-for-all, I told her. This isn't a small matter. This is the tool that carves my day! This is important. This is coffee. So let's start fresh, because it's never too late for a second take. And considering the way things are going, there might even be pancakes for dinner.