I didn’t post anything yesterday because there was nothing to post O.O. . . .I had nothing done yesterday because I was sick and started training for work 😦 but today is a ‘project #2’ day, so enjoy this third installment of ‘The Alphabet of Life-ing. I’ll be posting letter ‘D’ tonight also. If you haven’t read letters A or B, here are the links:
Letter A: http://wp.me/p3zzM5-lR
Letter B: http://wp.me/p3zzM5-m5
I probably sound like an addict when I explain my love for coffee, but it’s one of the few reasons why living seems worth it. Coffee is more to me than a small dose of caffeine in the morning or afternoon. It’s not a pick me up or something to generate warmth.
First it’s the process. The whir of the coffee machine and the command of more water put in the well, followed by the silent purr of the water warming. The Italian roast kept above the the coffee machine peeks out from the cubbard. I grab it and shake it into the filter, smelling the dark and powerful aroma as I close the top of the machine. The coffee begins to fill the pot and the faint smell from the grounds becomes stronger and fills the room. I wait until every last drop has fallen. The anticipation is exciting and calming all at once. I choose one out of the many of my mugs, a tall deep red one.
I fill my cup and leave room for add ins. The thrill continues as I get a can of condensed milk and watch a dollop drip into the cup with satisfaction, adding a one more just in case. I take a spoon and stir, watching the brown turn into a light beige. I sit next to the open window and brace myself. As soon as my lips meet the cup, I feel a sense of warmth and security. A sense of home and comfort that I wish I felt at home. I savor the smell and the taste while I look out the window. The few times I feel safe is with a cup coffee in my hand. I feel safe. . .I feel warm. . .I feel like myself.