And then the coffee machine broke.
I don't bring much to my marriage, but I have been getting up at 6.30am every morning for the last 23 years and handing Hannah a coffee before she leaves for work. Without this small act I would have quickly found myself homeless, and many companies would not have received a tenth of the focus and energy Hannah brings, so I suppose I have been contributing to the economy somewhat. Now I had a crisis inside a crisis, a disaster that was very literally existential. This was not going to be good.
Luckily we limped on with the 17 other ways to make coffee we have in this house, but clearly none were going to administer a satisfactory caffeinated shot at daybreak. So it was with considerable panic that I scoured the Internet until I found an "open box" machine that could meet both my budgetary and technical requirements. It was still far too much money. Think of a reasonable amount to spend on a coffee machine. That's not what I paid. But while it seems crazy to buy things in a time of corona, if this isn't the moment to carpe the diem then I'm not sure when is.
Several agonising, low-intensity days later, the machine arrived. And it certainly arrived. The thing weighs around 90lbs, and took both of us to lift it onto the counter. It's curved. It's shiny. It hums quietly. And it MAKES COFFEE. Lots of coffee when Hannah's working from home. I purchased several pounds of beans from the legendary Blue Bottle in California and got grinding.
Luckily I'd just read an article about how at least four cups of coffee a day is the healthiest amount to drink. With all this virus around I've been taking no chances and drinking double that to be sure. It's amazing! My energy reserves are almost inexhaustible, Pete's homeschool is operating at 230% efficiency, and all the calcium from the milk in my lattes means my bones are unbreakable. Also, everything is vibrating and I'm hallucinating significantly.
But Hannah's satisfied again, which is all that matters. I completed my new setup with a smart plug, which I've linked to our Google Home speaker.
"I can just shout 'Turn the coffee machine on!' and it happens!" I excitedly explained to Hannah. She looked confused. "That's what I do anyway," she pointed out. "Where's the skinny double shot cappuccino extra foam I ordered? I've already waited two minutes." Thankfully, with the pure java juice flowing through my veins, I can now keep my wife happy faster than ever.
Shiny thing make it all better.
Special delivery.
The good stuff.
How to keep a marriage alive.
Quick homeschool break (Pete prefers a straight espresso).
