There isn’t enough coffee to make even a single shot of espresso for my moccachino this morning. But I’m just too indignant at this lack of planning from last night to get out the beans and grinder. Besides, I can’t stand grinding coffee first thing in the morning, so I never do.

Today, I tamp what measly coffee I have left into the filter and make it anyway. I top it up with hazelnut instant coffee. It’ll be alright.

As the machine is heating up, I think of all the fancy bloggers with their fancy photos and wonder when that’ll be me. The bits of instant coffee refusing to melt into the half-strength espresso shot seem an apt metaphor for my life at the moment. I’d love to be one of those smooth espressos with perfect crema, but here I am, cobbling it together as I go.

I get distracted and try to take a photo of the breakfast I’m making, scattering a few salty crackers and arranging the milk jug. Doesn’t look like much, I think as I snap the photo on my phone, maybe some editing will make it bearable. As I froth the milk I realise that in my not-quite-awake-not-quite-asleep state of mind I’ve overfilled the frothing jug.

That’s gonna overflow, I think to myself as I steam it, yet I make no move to stop that. Let it, I vengefully think as the mug heats up to my touch.

When the milk is half-heated, it flows over. As I knew it would. I empty the jug by pouring some into my coffee cup and keep steaming the rest. When it’s done I put the mug down and watch the foam run down the side of the steamer, spilling onto the counter in a small, frothy pool.

It’s just so messy, the disappointment in my thought is palpable. It isn’t even artfully messy. It’s just messy, I berate myself as I mentally look for a photo angle and find none. What good am I if I can’t even take a messy food photo in the morning?

Though it occurs to me that the food photographers spend a goodly amount of time and effort putting together messy food looks that look spontaneous while being anything but. And here I am with my butt-coffee (because yes, it turned out looking like a lady’s bottom) trying to get my shit together. I let the whole thing go and clean it up. I file the thoughts away for revisiting later when I’ve woken up properly. Or maybe I just filed them away full stop.

I spend a moment figuring out how I’m going to stack my cup of coffee, glass of water, bowl of salty crackers and phone so that I can get away with just one trip. Once I sit down at my desk I know I won’t feel like getting up again. Not in the least because my breakfast is as nutritious as this. In the end, I tuck the phone tightly under my arm, stack the bowl on top of the water glass to balance in one hand and grab the coffee in the other.

I decide against trying to sip my coffee on the way since that’s the armpit holding my phone. It’s less than six months ago since my old phone fell and broke. I’ve dropped this new one enough times already to have the cracked screen be held together by the armour sticker and my phone case. This phone is never coming out of this case if I want it to stay in one piece. Next time, I’m not listening to my significant other who insisted I’d not enjoy one of those hardy construction worker phones. Next time, I’m getting an indestructible phone because I can’t even with these regular phones. They’re too pretty, too thin and too slick for someone like me.

I’m a clumsy person but I’m also a neat freak about my tech. When I see someone using a phone with a shattered screen something inside of me screams like an Edward Munch painting. I know I don’t need infrared to detect rodents in the walls (not yet anyway, on my farm that’s gonna come in handy) but I just want to be able to drop my phone in 3 ft of water, fish it out and keep using it as if nothing happened.

I need that in my life.

I barely have time to sit down at my desk, flip open the screen of my laptop and pop a salty cracker in my mouth before I know my coffee’s inching towards lukewarm. I can feel it just by looking at it.

Despite the overwhelming feeling to just chug it down before that happens, I can’t stand lukewarm or room temperature coffee, I take a measured sip and put on my glasses as I being to type. I’ll just have to drink it luke-cold today.