The Day, the Coffee Maker Died.

I know, sounds like a cruel joke, right? Especially for a family with an 11-week old, in bad need of coffee (the family, not the baby). I had been thinking that my fancy Cuisinart coffee machine had been acting "funny" as of late, but I was chalking it up to my own exhaustion (like, maybe I just thought I turned it on, but didn't really?). But oh no, it was in fact on its last, albeit caffeinated legs. Today I actually had to stand next to my coffee pot, continuously turning it back on (it was turning off every minute of the brew cycle), only to receive a mediocre cup of joe to start my engine today.

As the day wore on, I started stressing out more and more about what the hell I was going to do come Wednesday a.m.? I mean, I need my coffee (I'm not too proud to admit it). I really, really, need my coffee. Tonight, after Max was safely tucked in, I looked at Scott and said, "I think I need to go buy a new coffee maker. NOW." He saw the stressed out look in my eyes and nodded, "yes". So I grabbed my car keys and rushed over to the evil Walmart only to find that they are renovating, and they are not bothering to stock their shelves while they do so. Ack. All my online research in the crapper, I'd have to make due with whatever they got. I had been planning on getting this coffee maker, but they didn't have it. I was informed by the naive stock boy that they would be receiving a shipment of these tomorrow. Tomorrow? Has he no idea what it is like to have a baby in your home? Having decided that I would not spend oodles of money on an expensive-fancy-ass coffee pot that would let me down a mere four years after its purchase date (a wedding gift), I opted for an even cheaper model. I just need it strong and hot, I'll leave the fancy stuff for the baristas. Another crisis averted.