That darn coffee maker. I bought it last year because I thought it would be a nice upgrade. It was, but recently, the snail's pace brewing and thick black coffee have been too much for me. I'm an instant gratification, quick-fix kind of gal who likes to drink many cups of coffee, not just one super strength.
...frighteningly similar to how I feel about relationships. Maybe. I'm still working on that one.
This morning with my semi-solid coffee, I thought seriously about the previous night's viscous conversation with Takeshi. I'm a stubborn lady with a pension for the darker side of things. We flung open the big questions about our current standing, Cambodia, and the possibility of losing each other in the shuffle. It sounds awful, and it was, but we needed to go there.
By the way, I'm in dire need of a kick in the pants to adjust this sad, sad attitude. I'm on the edge of the adventure of a lifetime, I have the best family (biological or otherwise), and the most supportive friends I could ask for.
You ought to invest in a French Press, my friend. Anything you don't plug into the wall has got to be good. And brewing time is 3 minutes. That is my advice to you. Oh, and I think you're doing all the right things, boys, borders and otherwise :~)
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