When you find yourself apologising to inanimate objects…

So. My wonderful, cheap French Roast coffee beans were sold out. I grabbed something called German breakfast roast. Unfortunately Pre-Ground. Bitter, highly caffeinated, thin, insipid brew, tea on steroids. So much promise. So much disappointment. So little sleep.
My regular beans returned to the shelf after thoughts were seconded and complaints were laid.
Now I have all this stimulation I don’t prefer, but a commitment has been made, I bought it after all.
It’s like it owns me and I risk offending it by dumping it.
I have fear obligation guilt towards a bag of low satisfaction.
Narcissist beverage.
I have the right to change my mind.
I have the right not to explain.
My cup of tea.
Or not.

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