I made a pot of coffee at 8:30 Saturday morning. A full pot, of which I only drank one cup because then Alisha arrived with a large iced coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts which lasted me several hours because I was too busy frantically typing and waving my arms around to remember it was there.
Then Evonne brought me green tea Frappucino from Starbucks, so I was on a cold beverage kick for awhile.
But about an hour ago, I thought to myself, “Huh. I could really go for some hot beverage, something in a mug. Something brown in color. Oh yeah, coffee.”
So I poured some nearly-day old cold coffee into the same cup I was using Saturday morning and threw it in the microwave.
“That’s really gross,” Alisha grumbled from the couch.
Look, when you’ve already got stomach acid coming up your esophagus, nothing’s really that gross that anymore. Except for maybe the turd milkshake Satan drank on Food Party.