it’s dead. the coffee machine. the goddamned cleaning person killed it last friday. i had made a pan and was drinking the first cup when the cleaner came. i had to go check on a copying machine so left him here alone. when i came back i saw he had cleaned up all old stains around the machine. aaw, nice of him, i thought. when taking my third and last cup later in the afternoon i noticed it was cold as ice. wtf? i hoped it was only a temporary little thing, but obviously not. the whole machine is as dead as marshal mannerheim.
yesterday i was feng shui:ing my “bedroom” (ok.. alcove really). for hours i went through boxes with old memories, diaries, photos, letters etc. threw away loads of stuff and carefully put away in the attic those memories i’d like to keep – not just keep close to where i’m sleeping anymore. anyway. i found an old favourite from my last workplace and decided to make a copy here at IB as well. the cleaner is the first person to get his name on the list.
okay, i get it. it wasn’t on purpose he did it. i’m not going to hold a grudge against him, don’t worry. but you caffeinists out there understand the feeling when monday morning comes along and you don’t get your coffee…
however, the assistant to the rescue once more – a latte is on its way here now so i’ll survive.