Call me crazy, but I like my coffee hot.
A while ago I noticed that coffee seemed to taste better while consumed in my car. It was usually take-out coffee so I went through this whole analysis of whether it was the coffee, the cardboard cup, or what, that made the joe taste better. And then it dawned on me. The coffee was HOT. When drinking coffee in the car I couldn’t get distracted by life. I had nothing else to do but to drink the darn coffee as I drove.
I love weekends. On weekends I have a nurse start at 7am so I am not responsible for Matthew’s morning care. On weekends I get to drink my coffee piping hot. I usually have a second cup and drink IT piping hot. Hot coffee might well be my bliss. What can I say. I am easy to please!
Because during the week my life usually looks like the picture below.
The cup of coffee you will note is full. It is also stone cold.
Every morning I make a pot of coffee with the plan that I will drink a cup while it is still hot. What can I say, I live in a state of perpetual hope. Some might call it delusional I suppose. Every morning I take that cup into Matthew’s room to start his morning care. I assume I will drink sips of the hot coffee between priming his feeding tube, drawing up meds, maybe even while doing his nebulizer treatment. And every morning I get caught up in the busyness of morning care and the darn coffee becomes cold. Another opportunity lost.
In two more days it will be Saturday and I will enjoy not one, but TWO, steaming hot cups of coffee. You see. Perpetual hope!