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Keurig Konsciousness
Today, I actually (just) made a cup of coffee.
Earlier today, some woman (me) spilt her coffee when the server slipped in the pass-off in the drive-through. Witnesses claim (my conscious) that I was trying to pass hashbrowns to the backseat while trying to transfer a hot beverage over my body but decided I could divide my attention. The server was unbelievably kind; even though it wasn’t her fault, she offered to redo the coffee for me. However, it was a busy day; there was a lot, and I mean a lot of people behind me and I still had, like, sixty percent of my coffee intact, therefore, drinkable and no big deal.
I happily drove away, and then…kind of felt…icky for myself about the whole thing and not, but a bit, but yes? Maybe?
“I can do with this…”
“This is plenty…too much really…”
If that was true? Why have I been buying medium drinks my whole damn life? It’s because I like the quantity…silly me, I forgot I was the client, or did I? Is this a big deal, or is this mundane? I honestly cannot trust my own instincts anymore.
I have a best friend who, for decades, only ate half a piece of gum at a time. She was adamant it was enough. Her husband upped and left her after she served him as a faithful wife for over twenty-plus years. I asked her if her excessive penny-pinching was pin-you-in-the-eye infuriating, considering her better half had been doubling down on ‘joy’ and my poor fool of a…
