I miss my coffee pot

I sent my coffee pot/espresso maker/cappuccino maker back to its home to be replaced.  This was about a week ago.  I miss it.  A replacement is not expected for about another two weeks.

My mother-in-law loaned me their coffee pot (the silly people don't drink coffee often).  Now, don't get me wrong.  I am grateful for the loaner coffee pot.  It has kept me sane.  However.  It is just not the same as mine.  Nowhere near as impressive.

It gets the job done.  Just not as fast.  And not as fun.  (And not as complicated, which is not necessarily a bad thing.)  

The other morning, I spilled used coffee grounds on the floor.  It made me grumpy.  (Please don't judge me for not cleaning the grounds out every day.  I do most days.  This time, I did it the next morning.  Which turned out to be a mistake.)  I composed a Haiku in honor of the event.

Wet coffee grounds spilled

on the floor makes me grumpy.

My feet are sticky.

I will admit the Haiku is partly inspired by The Pioneer Woman's Josh Haiku.  But this Haiku is all my own.  I probably won't be a poet.  Ever.