The gloomy weather was more than befitting. Color day should always be coupled with the dreariness this morning symbolized. The gray morning skies grew steadily darker as Mac watched the increasingly ominous thunderclouds amass across the distant horizon, impatiently awaiting the Bunn to finish filling the carafe. Why the hell the engineers responsible for creating a contraption of such high repute did not design it whereby the true caffeine junkie had to wait until the entire pot was finished always exacerbated his already peevish early morning color day moods, but remaining loyal to the Bunn was the right choice as it had proven its worthiness and durability compared to other brands. Besides, the epiphany to first place a mug and fill it, containing the most evil of evil cardiac coffees, then placing the carafe receiving the diluted remainder had been stymied for ages by his childish verbal tantrums, all of which concluded with similar menacing threats such as, "I'll kick your effin piece of crap ass, you sorry ass coffee makin' mofo!" It was firmly decided that this story of a seemingly brilliant yet mentally belated shortcut to caffeine, a hindered path replete with invective Bunn vitriol accompanied with flailing arms and projectile spittle, would be taken to his grave.
How all of these coffee tantrums escaped Jeanette's eyes was amazing. What didn't escape her eyes was at times this brilliant idea went terribly wrong; the times it was forgotten that the mug had been placed and coffee overflowing flooding the counter tops, drawers, and kitchen floor, creating an embarrassing scene requiring Mac to contain the nasty outburst and assume his sheepish behavior, and once again keeping hidden the ugly. Maintaining an even minded demeanor was important. Jeanette frowned upon an adult, didn't think too highly of an adult, who lost their cool when innocent human blunder intervened.
Mac would pour in enough water to fill the mug twice, and even though the second mug was weaker than the first, it was well worth it; for any addict will attest to the fact that the day's initial impact of caffeine is intensified proportionately with an increase of the active ingredient. That first cup had to be killer, to be jokingly cardiac coffee, because Mac had known for ages that it was this first caffeine saturated mug that worked its neuro-transmitting magic of unleashing the ephemeral high so desperately needed, especially on color day. The caffeine rush provided by the first mug was inimitable.
Coffee being relatively expensive convinced Mac that the continued failed attempts of striving to repeat that first mug's magic was wasting money and he thereby established his goal of one mug of the strong stuff, one mug of the weaker stuff, and help Jeanette drink her risible excuse for coffee, or as Mac put it, brown piss when she was at Mac's place. Besides, the lack of money in the past had precluded many a grocery store coffee purchase thus enabling him to realize that caffeine, at least with respect to himself, was not physically addictive. In caffeine's absence of just on day the 'two o'clock shakes' never materialized as thought, as undoubtedly they would in vodka's absence. His latest "It's all in your head, jerk-off!" caffeine epiphany to save money by giving up coffee was ultimately put to rest knowing that glorious morning rush, that caffeine buzz responsible for sending emotions soaring, would be too greatly missed.
Establishing goals had become increasingly important. Mac's second DUI within a five year period sounded a personal clarion to admit to ugly truths, to make the necessary changes. Adapting to small changes, such as limiting his daily caffeine intake, were viewed as being essential to achieve long term goals; long term goals requiring a