My company is gracious enough to provide us all with free coffee, very good free coffee, enough for a couple of cups a day. which I have started enjoying, really enjoying. The daily espresso, with a little milk in the morning, and black with brown cane sugar in the afternoon as is the custom, has become a part of my routine. Today though I ran out of capsuals. the ordering process has been delayed this month, no ones fault I guess, but it menas there will be two or three days without much coffe in the office.
Favours are called, promises made and the normally well oiled machine starts to creak a little. In the UK I was above this petty dependancy, I supplied my own constantly flowing stream of herbal and fruit teas and I thought myself very special. Here its a different story, coffee is a wheel around which the office turns, the put-put of the espresso, sorry Nespresso machine is the soundtrack to the first 1.5 hours of the day, again at 11, once after lunch and around 4pm. gathering outside for coffe is a social break, enjoyed more and more by me, and in French plus en plus.
Buffy has a Nespresso machine that she keeps at my house, I use it every moring, for a milky steaming frotthed cup of joe in the morning while I read what ever is one the kitchen table and wake up to the world that day. We have to order pods for this machine, not often, and they are reasonably priced, and this time they were delivered to my office, and this picture is of them sitting on my desk, waiting to be opened at home and poured in all their wonderful colours into the waiting bowl on the window sil.
What a shame then, that I am unable to use these pods destined for my normal Nespresso machine in the Nespresso machine at work, one looks like a flying saucer, and is maed of plastic, and the other is the shape of a small tin flowerpot. They both contain coffee, lovley grounds of many flavours, from pointless decaffinato, to strong ristretto. but here I sit, tired, edgy and brewing a headache, unable to use the coffee I have in the machine that is not mine. I am more and more tempted, but the person that breaks the coffee machine is doomed. The whys and wherefores are wise I am sure, but it does not help me. marooned on a cloud without the focus of that mind bending drug called caffine. could I be addicted?
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