*sigh*
There comes a time in a man's life when he decides that a romance, however warm and fulfilling, becomes too much to handle. Which is why this past weekend, I found myself forced to end my 2 year relationship with my drip coffee maker. The two of us journeyed together through many of the joys and pains of a new life in the city and those accompanying dreadful, dreadful mornings after a too-long night out on a weekday. Alas, she had grown too high-maintenance as she aged. The constant need to clean and remove the spent grinds became too much for me - especially as I found myself pressing snooze on my alarm clock more and more to squeeze out a few, fleeting moments of continued sleep. I simply had less and less time for her. I started hitting the Starbucks on Allen street and we slowly, inevitably drifted apart. In the end, my once beautiful giver of "awakey-ness" became a dusty, disused burned out shell.
Alone, forgotten (and disgustingly) unemptied, she sat atop my refrigerator waiting for the end, her dark roasted lifeblood slowly evaporating.
"Artists" rendition of the inside of the coffee pot, circa last week.
At that point, I stopped mourning and became quite grossed out. Then I went out and bought one of those super-cool Keurig Single Cup jammies with the little coffee pod things so I won't have to clean or wash anything coffee maker related ever again.
Best money I ever spent, so all's well that ends well, I suppose.
