Our ground floor is a construction site. Sort of. A group of men came in, demolished two thirds of the floor, ripped out our kitchen, and then completely disappeared. It has been two weeks since I have seen anyone working. They tell me this is normal. But enough about that.
I have long been wanting a coffee maker in my bedroom. I do not like waking up and having to work out how best to passive-aggressively ask M to go downstairs and make me a cup of coffee. (M can shower, get dressed and do all sorts of things without the assistance of caffeine, but I cannot.) Now that our kitchen is basically a hot plate and a kettle — which cannot be used simultaneously lest the entire room lose power — I had good reason to move the machine upstairs.
I don’t know what took me so long! Now I can drink black coffee (the cheaper the better) before I have to talk to anyone, before I have to take more than 20 steps. I may have to plug the Crock Pot in outside (more on that later) and keep the toaster in the bathroom (who doesn’t want to eat a bagel on the toilet?), but I do it all while very well caffeinated.
Given that we may not have a kitchen until mid-2020, I am going to need all the coffee I can get.
May is hard. May is happy and sunny and here in NYC it’s even gotten warm (thank heavens, because I was on the verge of a complete and utter weather-related breakdown, the likes of which I hadn’t experiences since I did time in Seattle). But it’s not necessarily an easy month. In addition to the onset of seasonal allergies (please send help, there is Mack truck parked in my sinuses), there’s a lot to do, which for me means there’s a lot to forget, a ton to let slip through the cracks, a mountain to overlook. You see where I’m going…
One day, after a doctor’s appointment I’d failed to calendar and a kid-related deadline I didn’t make (am I beating a dead horse?), I stumbled upon this bottle of loveliness:
I love coffee. I love seltzer. What could possibly be better than a combo of the two? Standing near the checkout of my local market, I felt a little like the guy (or girl) who fell upon peanut butter and chocolate or ketchup and just about everything. I immediately texted a picture to my friend R, who is a coffee drinker and a seltzer aficionado. She was unimpressed. Undeterred, I bought a bottle and drank it on line and texted R immediately: It was delish — like a not-too-sweet caffeinated cream soda, with giant bubbles. Plus, it’s limited edition, which means soon it will disappear, so I am compelled to down as much of it as I can while it is on the shelf.
I have bought a bottle every day since then. Sometimes two. It’s May. I need it.
People in my neighborhood market: I see you looking at me. I feel your judgy eyes on me. I hear you thinking, “Who on earth would buy that revolting looking beverage?” Me, that’s who. And I’ll buy a second while I’m here in case I’m done with this one by the time I check out.
Happy May, people. Do whatever you need to.
I tumbled out of bed, put the kettle on, sprinkled the coffee at the bottom of the Bodum, and grabbed a mug. Minutes later, when I went to pour some coffee, this is what I saw:
I suppose I’m glad I caught it in time, but was it really necessary to stash your retainer model in my coffee cup?
Speaking of sweet, hidden surprises, the rain is back, with a vengeance… As if angry because we didn’t miss it enough. No, that’s not the surprise. But when I slid my right foot into my rain boot, I felt something cold, mushy, and wet. I may be clever, but I’m not clever enough to work out how my boot got stuffed with a moldy cucumber and half a foot of water.