Every single morning, the first thing I do after waking is carefully make my way down the stairs and pour my pre-measured water from the coffee pot into the appropriate receptacle in the machine, and then press start. After that I drink two big glasses of water and head to the bathroom for my morning ablutions. The only variation to the routine is that on weekends, I sleep slightly later and so I let Rex out of his crate prior to the ablutions, but always, always, always, as they say FIRST, COFFEE.

So it was that Saturday morning rolled around, and I was coming out of the bathroom freshly washed and brushed, thinking I would pour myself a cup of that sweet, sweet nectar on my way to let Rex back in. I noticed that there was a fairly significant pool of water on the countertop, surrounding the coffee maker. I don’t know about you, but I frequently spill water when I’m pouring from the pot to the receptacle, so I thought that I had done just that, although it DID register that a) it was a fairly large volume, more than my usual splash, and b) how did I not notice? Well, I have not noticed more significant things than some water, so I wiped it up, let Rex in, told him he was a good boy and I love him so much, yes I do, yes I do, and then I went on with my day.

I was a little annoyed that my mistake had led to less coffee than normal, but I moved on with my life.

The next morning, as I poured the water into the receptacle, I reminded myself to be very careful. I didn’t spill a drop. By the time I returned to pour myself a cup, there was an even bigger pool of water, and now it was spilling on the floor.

This exact thing has happened to me before, and it was April 2020. It felt like a crisis at the time, because buying anything was such a ridiculous hassle, and what could be more important than a coffee maker? Probably you are thinking many things are more important than a coffee maker, but friends, you don’t live with me. You don’t live in fear of being murdered, stabbed, or, at the very least, spoken to sharply because Nicole Didn’t Get Her Coffee. Coffee or complete mental and emotional breakdown, choose one.

Happily for everyone involved, this did not devolve into a crisis because a) the coffee maker was still brewing coffee, albeit at a lower volume than anticipated, b) my husband has a fancy espresso maker that I do not know how to use and would unlikely be able to figure out in a caffeine-less state, but he would probably get up and make me a SERIES of espressos if things got desperate, and c) I remembered we still had our old coffee maker from our Calgary house, still in protective wrapping from the moving company. I pulled it out of the pantry and it happily worked, although my son asked darkly for how long? He seemed nervous that the old one would just as suddenly start malfunctioning, and THEN where would we be? You need to buy a new coffee maker, Mom, he said in an uncharacteristically forceful way.

And indeed, he was right to be concerned, because not three days passed before I noticed a small but distinct dribble of water beside the coffee maker. My husband is on the case, believe me.

I am a terrible coffee addict, I know, and it’s not something I feel moved to change about myself. I am harming no one by consuming vast amounts of coffee between 4 and 9am every day, and, in fact, I would probably harm someone if I didn’t. At the very least I would not be radiating sunshine, let’s put it that way.

My coffee habit has been going strong lo these past thirty-eight years, which makes me marvel at the idea that there are people in this world who don’t drink coffee at all and still function normally and non-murderously. I feel true amazement and wonder at this. What is your life like? I want to ask. Some people drink their first coffee of the day mid-morning, after accomplishing many things, and some people drink coffee in the afternoon. Some people drink it after dinner! Some people have one cup a day, no more, and some people drink it sporadically during the week. Nothing gives me more of a the world is a rich tapestry feeling than hearing these anecdotes.

Well. Baby, baby, it’s a wild world. I have been the recipient of much amazement as to my own habits, non-coffee-related. I loathe pie, for example, and even the idea of a cooked apple makes me want to heave. I refuse to have celery in my house and I do not, as a rule, enjoy black or green tea. I fall asleep by 8:30pm and I prefer having spoilers rather than endure any tension in TV or movies. I reread books frequently, I’ve never worn eyeshadow, and I think Old Dutch Ketchup potato chips were the greatest snack food of all time, although I haven’t consumed them in many years. There is room for all of us and our personal opinions and preferences in this life, and as long as I get my coffee, everything is happiness.

Weekly Reading

On the topic of the world being a rich tapestry: books! What could be more varied and individual than reading tastes? I thought I was making a dent in my pile of library books, but as I took three back to the library, four more came in. So it’s a one-step-forward-two-steps-back situation.

The Bright Years. This book follows a family and their secrets, and ultimately their healing. It spans decades, and I really liked the little pop culture and current events that were peppered in through the years. There is a child given up for adoption who is looking for his birth mother, there is a chosen family, there is a supportive mother-in-law who chooses her granddaughter over her alcoholic son. Speaking of the latter, if you know me, you know I HATE plotlines about alcoholism and addiction, but I pushed through, and I was rewarded with a nice redemption arc and message.

Mean Moms. WHAT A HOOT. This book was so fun to read. I have also read this author’s Bad Summer People, and let me tell you, she has the concept of Ultra Rich People Behaving Badly down! Whereas Bad Summer People follow a crowd who “summer” on an exclusive island off the East Coast, Mean Moms follows a group of Manhattan moms at an exclusive private school. Strange things start happening to a couple of these moms just when a woman from Miami arrives at their school. Is it a coincidence? Or is someone out to get them? This book was an absolute riot and the sections are divided by WhatsApp chains, and if you have ever been in a parenting-or-school-related text chain, this will resonate deeply. I enjoyed this so much.

Not My Type. Normally I avoid any and all mentions of the current US president, so at first glance it is odd that I would pick up this book, which details his trial and subsequent conviction as to the matter of sexual assault and defamation of writer E. Jean Carroll. However, I listened to interviews of the acclaimed 81-year-old writer on a number of podcasts and immediately fell in love with her. What a fascinating and brave woman! This book is horrifying and also a triumph, and when the current president claimed that he just grabs women by the pussy, well, that is exactly what he did do in a Bergdorf Goodman changing room in 1996. This book contains official court transcripts as well as the author’s own notes on the trial. As a note, IF the current president ever pays the $83 million owed, the author has decided that all – ALL – of it will go to charities and causes that said president loathes, such as women’s reproductive rights, voting rights, and climate solutions.

On that note, I will sign off for the week. I hope you are all enjoying the things you individually enjoy, perhaps a hot beverage? Say a little prayer that my backup coffee maker doesn’t meet its maker, so to speak, before the backup arrives. xo