And then I spilled the beans

So yesterday morning I ended my post by saying I was off to quietly unpack things from my shopping trip to the big city. Allow me to take you on a journey of the adventure that followed me deploying that post.

I get up from the couch and decide that before I do I anything, I need coffee. We are bean grinders which makes for an extra smooth and fantastical cup of coffee in the morning, except on those mornings where the Hubs did not pre-grind the coffee and the container is empty and sad and pouty. It is a series of those moments when I swear I need my own Barista or my next coffee pot will be one of the fancy Grind and Brew situations.

That being said, I had a choice to make, go coffeeless until the Hubs wakes up because grinding coffee in the kitchen breaks all aspects of the morning noise treaty or find an alternate spot on the premise that could muffle the sound of the gridner. If I were smart, I would’ve just waited. I am not smart. We have 4 unopened coffee varieties from our holiday travels that were begging to be brewed. I could not be stopped.

I considered the garage but decided that was too cold and opted for a guest room upstairs and opposite of the Master bedbroom, where the master of the house slumbered away. I underestimated the amount of equipment needed for the task. Once I gathered, the coffee, the grinder, the coffee container and a towel on which to grind the coffee, my hands were full. I got up stairs and arranged everything only to realize that the vacuumed-sealed- for-my-enjoyment bag of coffee was impossible to open without scissors which, of course, I did not have.

So I grabbed the now mangled yet still unopened bag, headed back downstairs to the kitchen, cut the bag open and started my return trip back up the stairs. You know when you’re trying to be extra quiet and it seems like every noise you make is magnified by thousands? That’s what I felt like when I manged to trip up the stairs (big thud) and spill part of the opened bag of coffee watching beans fly up in the air and bounce down the stairs (coffee sprinkles).

Twenty minutes from the time I started the simple task of making coffee, I hit the “brew” button.


About nikirush

I'm still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.
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One Response to And then I spilled the beans

  1. Jess says:

    Ha. This sounds like our house. Except we don’t have stairs to trip on. Eric makes a habit of finding the biggest comforter and grinding beans while covering it completely with the comforter. It is quieter! At least you got your coffee…right?

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