busting stuff

from february 26th, my last latte (until today, check back for posting), as i did my small part to destroy the ozone. it was an accident, honest. i was maybe a little upset at a coworker and a little short of temper and maybe the four-inch frost build up in the freezer was a little more than i could stand, but when i chipped away at the ice with the flat head screwdriver and hammer i did not intend to puncture the freon line – i swear it.

it happened and i’m sorry and i’m going to buy a new office frig. until then i have been suffering with americanos and espressos solamente*.

isn’t that punishment enough?

*solamente = only, in spanish. a very useful word to know

late one

pretty late in the afternoon for a first cup of coffee, but oh so good. pretty late to be posting it too. consumed on feb 25th, posted march 2nd

another buck twenty five

actually, i’m not sure how much a homemade latte costs. i would have to determine the average number of lattes per quart of milk, how many beans for a shot, freight per bean, plus the average cost of the machine and electrical draw for both espresso and grinder. not to mention the cost of the mug collection. it’s less than store bought i guess, but the same amount of time standing around waiting for the rush.

and behind it, the endless to-do list on the hard-to-ignore yellow legal pad. ever growing, ever expanding.

little talent non-hack

oscars are over underscoring my continued existence as a completely average non-contributing person. even my pictures are kind of iffy.

my sister thinks i should do stand up though.

moon and stars

this mug was a birthday gift from my then future husband of now, as in was my boyfriend and became and currently still is my husband…i have such a way with words, no?

i thought it was the most beautiful mug in the world, but dishwashers and soap have had their way over the years, muting the bright colors and dingeing the sparkling blue glass. it is no less beautiful for all it’s age. marriage on the other hand, not quite the shining promise of youth…but still good!

oh yeah, the coffee was tasty too.

five hours of sleep coffee

i made this cup in haste, the machine had not heated up properly, all of the frothing pitchers are dirty and i steamed the milk in the cup while on the phone.

still pretty good. i wish i had some pastry.

chiropractic care day!

hooray for chiropractors! i love mine. i love coffee too. that’s all.

steaming smarter, not harder

i guess there really is something to using a thermometer when steaming milk. huh. fine foam, no scalding, great taste. who knew? (my husband for one!)

sciatica attacika

i spent my weekend nursing my sciatica, diagnosed over the phone by my father-in-law and stepmom-in-law and i later discovered in wikiworld that it is actually a collection of symptoms, primarily pain, for which there is no good treatment. also, it could be from a chronic muscular contraction, which i’m sure i have*, and that this chronic muscular contraction reduces blood flow to the muscle, called ischemia, and that the muscle is actually dying in a pool of it’s own waste. isn’t it ironic. my right glutæus maximus is drowning in a pile of shit.

there really isn’t much you can do while lying on your back, whimpering in pain and desolation. the whimpering actually doesn’t last very long, generally giving way to outright screams of pain when i moved.

so back at work, obviously, despite continued pain and i’m sure further dying muscles. here’s today’s coffee. it was good.

*it could also be a tumor which, with my encyclopedic diagnostic skills, i have not ruled out. tumors, dying muscles, ischemia, piriformis syndrome and worse is precisely why i do not look up these things that go wrong with me. i will now spend the next 72 hours convinced i am dying. a full body scan would prove nothing. house misses stuff all the time and they do cat scans, mri’s and every catheterization imaginable. i will only be satisfied by exploratory surgery, but then i would risk post operative infection, inclusion of sponges, surgery equipment or other ghastly issues.

the money shot

i think this was the thirteenth. i toiled away on my own i think. or maybe not. it’s all very indistinct and hazy now, being so long in the past.

i think it was a good cup. i certainly enjoyed the picture of a cow for sale that i found in the papers we use to box up shipments.