the one where I mess up coffee, I mean WHO DOES THAT

I'm having a bad week with kitchen appliances. First, the dishwasher turns on me. Now I'm having issues with the coffee maker. Ok, issue. And it was totally my fault.

When I got up this morning, I went to turn on the coffee maker before I got in the shower, just like I do EVERY OTHER DAY. Because I am so anal retentive, not only do I put out my clothes the night before, but I also set up the coffee maker AND I make sure a coffee mug and spoon are sitting there. I also get out a bowl, spoon, and box of Cheerios so my breakfast is almost ready. If I could, I'd go ahead and put the milk on but that's crazy because I hate soggy cereal. I do all this because I have no brain power when I get up in the morning. Especially on Thursday mornings when I have to be at work before 7, and I've inevitably stayed up way too late on Wednesday watching crap TV (crap TV does not include Lost because HELLO it was awesome last night) or reading or PROBABLY JUST LYING IN BED THINKING ABOUT HOW TIRED I'M GOING TO BE WHEN I WAKE UP BECAUSE I JUST. CAN'T. GET TO SLEEP! Ahem. I am like a zombie in the morning. Or a robot. Or, WORSE, a robot zombie who feeds on, I don't know, robot brains? (It's still morning, technically, that's why I make no sense)

ANYWAY. After my shower, I went to the kitchen to get some brain juice (coffee) and noticed that it looked a little odd. Kind of like sludge. And I was pretty sure I wanted to make half a pot, not a quarter. Then I noticed that I'd forgotten to put the lid on the coffee pot, which meant the little, pushy-in-thingie (that's the scientific name) didn't get pushed in and the water had trouble draining or something and the filter holder thing (again, so scientific) was full of brown water and I'm STILL not really sure why it failed SO extravagantly but there you go.

Then I was faced with a dilemma. I was running out of time to get ready, I hadn't eaten, and I had no coffee. I could skip the coffee and try to make it until I got to work so I could get some caffeine there, but the chances of me remembering how to drive/speak/not walk out of the house pantsless WITHOUT having had my precious (coffee) were very slim. I could get ready as quickly as I could and try and stop at the gas station to buy the biggest cup of coffee possible, but I knew I'd probably get stuck behind some jackass buying coffee for everyone in his office, blah, blah, I'm late.

OR, I could just clean up the mess from the botched batch of coffee and try again, remembering this time to add all components of said coffee maker.

I think I stood there, staring at the brown sludge in the coffee pot, for a good five minutes while my sleep-addled, decaf brain tried to make a decision. I finally decided to just make another pot, burn my tongue and esophagus when I tried to chug it, and take some in a travel mug EVEN THOUGH I was risking the sanctity of my pure, white pants by trying to drive with something that would stain.

All of which explains why my tongue feels like I licked sandpaper, my stomach hurts, and I have a small brown stain on my otherwise white pants. Every time I catch someone looking at it, I want to say, "that's not poo, it's THE SIGN OF AN ADDICT OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON'T BE LIKE ME," but I don't think I'm allowed to say poo at work.