Proof of Evil

It is way too early in the morning to be learning lessons, but that’s exactly what just happened to me.

I had just cleaned up the entire kitchen and living room first thing in the morning (women out there, I’m sure you know what that means — unpredictable bursts of cleanliness), and I was making a pot of coffee with the last of the Trader Joe’s Bay Area Blend when I noticed the new Starbucks pound of coffee sitting on top of the microwave, eagerly waiting in line to be the new coffee of the week. I picked up the freeze-dried bag and read the side.

Since her first sighting, Starbucks Siren has seduced us with her songs. Earth and air, fire and water combine to create her distinctive voice, the voice of Starbucks Coffee.

Wow. How much does that coffee love itself? Excuse me, herself? I couldn’t believe how high and mighty this new coffee was, not even opened yet, bragging that it was worthy of mythological status. I smirked at the coffee bag and put it back on the microwave, creating the copy for my Trader Joe’s tried-and-true blend.

It ain’t fancy, but you can make it every morning and it always tastes like coffee. Trader Joe’s, where cheap doesn’t mean shitty.

I chuckled in my morning haze, so proud of myself for being so damn funny, as I went to the other room to compulsively clean something else while taping something to my vcr while checking my email downstairs. I like to multi-task.

I wandered back into the kitchen, impatient for my first cup of coffee, deciding to play a game of “Catch the Stream of Goodness.”

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