I was making coffee this morning. I'd put the coffee shots in the cups and I was frothing the milk when my coffee machine began to make the most horrendous noise I had never heard it make before.
It was making a kind of grinding noise, and a clack, clack, clack noise at the same time.
I turned the frother on and off. I turned the machine off and on. I varied the speed of milk frothing, oh, I know, as if that is possible. I turned it off and on again, still the awful noise, I turned it off and on, once more. Is that the definition of insanity?
I thought I was going to finish with the milk frothing. It was clearly dying. What the fuck was I going to do?
This would require an emergency trip to the appliance shop should the worst be happening. Sam would blame me, of course.
"Of course," Sam would say.
Then I noticed out the corner of my eye it was out of water.
I filled up the water container. I patted it and told it I loved it, which I do, it's my favourite machine in the world, I couldn't bare the thought that I had damaged it in some way.
Full of water, I switched it back on. The grinding noise stopped. The clack, clack, clack noise stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I wondered if I had done any damage to it.
Sam left at 8.15am.
Charlie left at 8.30am.
Just Otto and me for the day again.
I should get the wank out of the way straight up. Ha, ha. Isn't that what guys do when they have the house to themselves?
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