Canned Coffee
My coffee got canned.
It was lunchtime, the best time of any working day except Friday. Fridays are just perpetually good for no particular reasons other than it being the last day of the working week. Saturdays do NOT count as working days, and any company who makes their workers work on a Saturday should be removed from the face of this earth. Except banks and bill payment centers, goverment offices... yada yada. Okay, scrap that thought, it's my coffee that gets the limelight today.
And so it was that the art department had gone for lunch, and I left my half-full ('half-full', because 'half-empty' sounds negative, and I'm not a negative person, now am I?) coffee mug on my desk and proceeded to join them. I make it a habit to never finish a mug of coffee in one sitting, as too much caffein is bad for your health. Plus, only really strong coffee works for me and having too much of that is just asking for a caffein overdose.
So there on my desk sat my half-drunk coffee mug filled with Ipoh White Coffee. An hour later, it was gone.
It was a classic case of 'Who moved my Coffee?'.
Except I knew immediately who it was. It was (drumroll) the cleaning lady.
*Pauses dramatically to take a deep breath and mutter some words of prayer in the hope of controlling my temper and not acting on a whim to decapitate someone who obviously doesn't know how much coffee means to some people.
This was not the first time it had happened. But then again, this was a different cleaning lady. What kind of person would actually take a cup half-filled with aromatic, creamy ipoh white coffee and junk it just like that without a conscience?
It was then that I looked around a realised that quite a few of my colleagues have a bad habit of not finishing their drinks. Most would drink a sip or two while it's hot, and pour it all down the drain the minute it gets cold. What then is the purpose of a microwave?
All that doesn't matter now, because at the end of it all, my beautiful cup of coffee is gone and I will not make another one no matter how sleepy I get after a heavy lunch, coz I have my principles too, and my principles state that I will maintain my vigil of one mug of Ipoh White Coffee a day no matter what! Plus, the stuff is rather pricey.
So with teeth bared, I fought sleepiness, and obviously failed... much to the disdain and amusement of my art director and possible other colleagues who are by now used to my coffee withdrawal symptoms. Of course, one would have noted by now that my half-filled mug of coffee was deliberately left that way so that I would always have a dose of instantaneous boost when I need it during a nodding session.
Nowadays, I keep my mug covered, with a serviette, in case the cleaning lady has some ideas of her own, and pray that she doesn't sentence my drinks to a life of solitude in the 'To Wash' bucket. Maybe I should even consider writing a note.
Or leave flowers to mourn the passing of many a good cup of coffee.
My coffee got canned.
It was lunchtime, the best time of any working day except Friday. Fridays are just perpetually good for no particular reasons other than it being the last day of the working week. Saturdays do NOT count as working days, and any company who makes their workers work on a Saturday should be removed from the face of this earth. Except banks and bill payment centers, goverment offices... yada yada. Okay, scrap that thought, it's my coffee that gets the limelight today.
And so it was that the art department had gone for lunch, and I left my half-full ('half-full', because 'half-empty' sounds negative, and I'm not a negative person, now am I?) coffee mug on my desk and proceeded to join them. I make it a habit to never finish a mug of coffee in one sitting, as too much caffein is bad for your health. Plus, only really strong coffee works for me and having too much of that is just asking for a caffein overdose.
So there on my desk sat my half-drunk coffee mug filled with Ipoh White Coffee. An hour later, it was gone.
It was a classic case of 'Who moved my Coffee?'.
Except I knew immediately who it was. It was (drumroll) the cleaning lady.
*Pauses dramatically to take a deep breath and mutter some words of prayer in the hope of controlling my temper and not acting on a whim to decapitate someone who obviously doesn't know how much coffee means to some people.
This was not the first time it had happened. But then again, this was a different cleaning lady. What kind of person would actually take a cup half-filled with aromatic, creamy ipoh white coffee and junk it just like that without a conscience?
It was then that I looked around a realised that quite a few of my colleagues have a bad habit of not finishing their drinks. Most would drink a sip or two while it's hot, and pour it all down the drain the minute it gets cold. What then is the purpose of a microwave?
All that doesn't matter now, because at the end of it all, my beautiful cup of coffee is gone and I will not make another one no matter how sleepy I get after a heavy lunch, coz I have my principles too, and my principles state that I will maintain my vigil of one mug of Ipoh White Coffee a day no matter what! Plus, the stuff is rather pricey.
So with teeth bared, I fought sleepiness, and obviously failed... much to the disdain and amusement of my art director and possible other colleagues who are by now used to my coffee withdrawal symptoms. Of course, one would have noted by now that my half-filled mug of coffee was deliberately left that way so that I would always have a dose of instantaneous boost when I need it during a nodding session.
Nowadays, I keep my mug covered, with a serviette, in case the cleaning lady has some ideas of her own, and pray that she doesn't sentence my drinks to a life of solitude in the 'To Wash' bucket. Maybe I should even consider writing a note.
Or leave flowers to mourn the passing of many a good cup of coffee.
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