It Was Supposed to Be Coffee
I’m a sucker for a delicious cold brew coffee.
And not just any cold brew.
Each morning, I dedicate five minutes to the perfect recipe: a tablespoon of my favorite concentrated brew, a splash of half-and-half, and sometimes, a squirt of liquid raw sugar. If I add sweetness at the end, I use a little hand mixer to pull everything together before I fill the tumbler with filtered water. Once filled, my routine is complete.
Today was a bit…different.
During the second step (adding half-and-half), rather than a splash of dairy, a cottage cheese texture oozed its way out of the bottle. There was no salvaging what had already been thoroughly ruined. I dumped the “mixture” out, took a deep breath, and started over. Minus the creamer. Hours later, I’m still enjoying my smooth coffee combo. I like cottage cheese, but as a food group, not for a caffeine kick.
I knew something smelled off yesterday, but dairy does that. The half-and-half bottle had some build-up on the cap and threads, so I cleaned it off and moved on.
Problem solved, I thought.
It wasn’t a problem. It was a warning. “I’m turning!” it tried to tell me.
By this a.m., the deed was done.
In that moment, staring down at the curdled combo, I considered pretending it was fine.
I did not consider drinking it.
Some routines are worth the ritual. Not because they’re perfect, but because they make starting over feel normal.