THE COFFEE POT IS BROKEN OHMYGOD HOW WILL I SURVIVE!?
Damn thing just quit working like, WTF, coffeepot?! Haven’t I been good to you? Haven’t I lovingly and tenderly cleaned you? Admired your shiny stainless steel exterior? Whispered sweet nothings to you when we were all alone in the kitchen at the ass-crack of each new dawn? How could you betray me this way? How am I supposed to get through Pilates without the sweet, sweet hum of caffeine thrumming through my veins?
Why, coffeepot, why? Why has thoust forsaken me?
In retaliation, I’m going to leave you on the counter when I bring home the new coffeepot later this afternoon. I’m going to let you see the awesome new appliance that will be replacing you then; I’m going to cannibalize you for parts-your carafe is still in working order after all-and, when you have been gutted; I am throwing your ass in the trashcan.
That is what happens when momma don’t get her morning coffee, coffeepot; that is what happens.