The Reason I Get Up in the Morning

That would be my Seattle’s Best coffee. I suppose I AM one of those people who just doesn’t feel right until they have their morning coffee, and I’ve found, through years of serious research, that I like Seattle’s Best just a teensy bit more than Starbucks. Maybe it’s because they stir the drinks before they give them to you – unlike Starbucks, where they simply pour the shots of espresso into the cup and leave it at that. This results in an extra-strong coffee taste for the first half of the drink, and (if you’re like me and order a caramel macchiato or some other flavored coffee) an extra-sweet taste for the last half of the drink. Or maybe I like Seattle’s Best more because THIS guy just started working there: www.naveen-andrews.net. I don’t know why he’s working at Seattle’s Best. Seems like that “Lost” gig would’ve provided him with enough spending money. But I guess everyone needs a little extra cash now and then…

This morning, after the Lost guy gave me my coffee and reminded me to watch this week’s episode (in which he promises to avenge Shannon’s death by tossing Ana Lucia off a cliff into the ocean… no, wait – that’s just my own wishful thinking because I find the character of Ana Lucia so annoying…), I came back home, set The Reason I Get Up in the Morning next to my computer, and went outside to clean the pool. For some reason, Texas is overrun with these ridiculous live oak trees – they don’t lose their leaves in the fall, like normal trees. They wait until March, when unsuspecting pool owners assume the approaching spring season will bring nothing with it but blooming flowers and an occasional thunderstorm. THIS is when the devious, vindictive live oak tree exacts its revenge on all the pretty trees – the trees that actually change colors in the autumn, and bloom with flowers in the spring, and are covered with canopies of lush, green leaves in the summertime. The live oak, its trunk splattered with ugly patches of lichen, starts to drop its leaves – leaves that can never seem to find a decent shade of “green,” but rather hover somewhere between brown and washed-out chartreuse – in the middle of March. And this is why, when spring approaches, I must make sure to rid the pool of leaves every day. The live oak next to my pool hurls all of its chartreuse-y leaves into the water, and if I don’t get them out, they clog the pump.

So that’s what I did today, as The Reason I Get Up in the Morning was waiting for me inside my house. And what made the job even more tedious was the fact that it’s windy today – so as soon as I’d scoop a net full of leaves out of the pool, several thousand more would be blown into the water. But eventually I had the pool looking as blue and sparkling as it was going to get this time of year, and I headed inside to finally partake of my coffee.

As I took the first sip, I felt what I thought was one of my long hairs brushing against my neck, and reached up to pull it away. But instead of a hair, my hand was touching something that felt suspiciously like a bug. Hoping it was just a stray leaf or twig, I did a sort of “get rid of the bug” dance – arms flailing, hands shaking, fingers flicking my neck to remove whatever it was – all the while hopping up and down to dislodge any other stray entomological stowaways. Then I searched the floor, figuring the little guy must’ve been wandering around on the hardwood somewhere by now. But I couldn’t see anything on the floor except a couple stray dog hairs and a sequin from a sparkly shirt I was wearing a few days ago. Where did that stupid bug go? As I pondered this question, I reached for my cup to take another sip of The Reason I Get Up in the Morning, and there, on the plastic lid, was a bizarre little beetle with orange and black stripes and a malicious grin. (I might be making up the part about the grin…) I could tell, from the way it was walking toward the sipping hole in the lid, that it was about to take a nosedive into my precious morning cup of coffee, in retribution for the fact that I’d just launched it, what in bug distance must’ve been, about a mile and half across the room. I had to quickly carry the cup over to the sink, remove the lid, and wash the offensive creature down the drain. And there was no way I wanted to replace the lid and allow my mouth anywhere near it – what with the little invisible buggy footprints all over the place. Fortunately the coffee in the cup was unharmed, and I simply poured it into one of my own ceramic mugs and continued to enjoy it.

I suppose if I’d been a better person, I may have carried the strange little bug back outside and set him free – but you can NOT mess with The Reason I Get Up in the Morning.