Coffee, you complete me.
Thank you for everything you do for me. Every morning, I wake to the smell of fresh-ground heaven, and you are the last thing I think about before I go to sleep at night. Before I drift off, I always ask myself, “Did I set up the coffee maker for tomorrow?” Because one of the great ironies of life is that you need coffee to wake up, but you need to be awake enough to make the coffee.
Coffee, dear coffee, you allow the doing of the things and the writing of the words. Without you, I would just drool in the corner until the kids came home from school.
The kids, by the way, love you too. I’m afraid that’s my fault. I let them have decaf vanilla lattes when they were in middle school, but you and I both know what a gateway drug those things are. Now, my teenagers drink black coffee with me every morning. I can’t exactly say I’m sorry about that.
You star in many of my Instagram posts. Did you know that, my darling?
This is a love affair I hope never ends. You complete me, coffee. When I’m out of f*cks to give, I still have coffee. Coffee doesn’t ask any questions. Coffee understands. I’m not saying I’d die without you, dear coffee, but other people might. And orange is soooo not my color.
I prefer black. Like you.
Your forever friend,