The 9 Stages Of Going From Iced To Hot Coffee
Last week, I officially dusted off the hot coffee maker in my house. Like, it was actually covered in dust because in our household, we make cold brew in the summer months. I’d rather have cold brew in the fridge than pretty much all kinds of cheese and fresh berries which, let me tell you, is a big deal. It’s one of life’s greatest joys.
However, with the change in temperatures we’ve seen in Eastern Washington over the last ten or so days, I’ve come to accept that it’s time to revisit that summer coffee routine. I’m not a certified meteorologist, but when I need to put a hoodie on over my pajamas when I wake up, I can tell that Fall is approaching. And, in the immortal words of Vanilla Ice’s backup singers, it’s too cold, too cold outside for my fridge coffee. Although, speaking of vanilla ice, remind me to check Pinterest for a recipe because that sounds like something that would be delicious in coffee…next summer, of course.
Still, I’d venture to say that I’m not the only person who considers this switch to be a rather momentous occasion. Allow me to walk you through how the switch typically goes:
Stage 1: Rigid Denial
“Yeah, no. I don’t care if the weather is freezing outside, you will pry this chilled beverage from my cold, dead hands. And they’ll be even more cold than most dead hands because they will, in fact, still be holding an icy drink.”
Stage 2: Skeptical Consideration
“I mean, I know a lot of people like hot coffee. In fact, I know I like hot coffee, since I drink it by the gallon seven months out of the year. I guess I’ll think about it.”
Stage 3: Nostalgic Longing
“Actually, now that I’ve thought about it extensively for seven seconds, I can recall no less than three hundred times when I’ve enjoyed hot coffee inside whilst wearing long sleeves. Perhaps it’s time to go dig through my closet, too.”
Stage 4: Cozy Daydreaming
“While I’m at it, I’ll look for my softest blanket and all my favorite books and movies, and all those journals I’ve been meaning to write in. Now seems like a great time to revisit all my favorite indoor activities.”
Stage 5: Bean Sniffing
[no words, only obnoxiously dramatic inhaling that rivals people who do drugs in movies]
Stage 6: Sloppy Mechanics
[I also have nothing snappy to say about this one, only the sheepish confession that during my first attempt to make hot coffee in months, I poured the water into the wrong part of the machine, and it spilled everywhere. While the fact that I’m super sleep-deprived with an infant at home might have something to do with it, I don’t think that’s the only reason].
Stage 7: A Re-Emergence Of Denial, As Pot Slowly Fills
“oh, sh*t, is there steam coming out of this pot? What have I done?”
Stage 8: Acknowledging That It’s Cool To Get My Favorite Mug Out Again
“Haters gonna hate, but this Mickey Mouse mug makes all my conflicting feelings worth it.”
Stage 9: Acceptance
“What that? I can’t hear you over the sound of these warm fuzzy vibes swirling around me like a personal tornado.”