An Autumn Day Without Coffee

An Autumn Day Without CoffeeI woke up in a moment of panic realizing everyone was still asleep as the daylight seeped in through the curtains and the alarm clock had not sounded.  ”What time is it?!” I shouted twice before getting a garbled response.  Then the alarm sounded.  Late.

A scramble of activity from the man of the house mixed with lethargic dragging by the  six year old to get ready and off to school.  Meanwhile the two year old began putting up a fuss and squirming painfully beside me.  Then enter the feline overlords climbing the bed to surround me demanding their morning tribute.

I haul my self out from the warmth of the covers, the only comfort the bed offers with so many crowding in to thwart my restful wishes.  They all follow, crying, vocally pushing me on to the kitchen where so much of what will satisfy their demands is located.

The two year old is first.  Cheerios and milk.  The cacophony decreases by one.

Three screeching, urgent meows fill the space I wade through to retrieve the food and ration it out.  Impatiently they vie for dibs on the first bowl filled, then two vie for second, and the third is never good enough.  The last bowl is sniffed at as if it contained less than the first though all three were filled with the same amount of the same food.  Grudgingly the last cat lowers herself to eat from the last bowl filled.  The silence is punctuated by muffled crunching, but a kind of peace nonetheless.

I turn to the task that I know will yield a reward to sooth my already frayed nerves and restore the balance I’ll need to face the day.  The gentle clatter of beans makes me smile as I fill the grinder.  A moment of  deafening sound fills the room with the aroma that begins my therapy.  The purposeful act of separating the unbleached paper to place within the filter bowl is the beginning of clarity, and the pouring of water into the reservoir brings calming serenity.  All these elements combined to produce my daily balm with only one motion left to complete this ritual.  The flick of a switch.

Nothing.

All my efforts come to a halt.  Technology fails.

Looking out at the yellowed leaves reaching towards an Autumn grey sky only to fall upon the ground, I see my day.

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