Eliot’s poem came to mind this morning as I stared at the shelf where my coffees sat. It wasn’t so much to do with the banality of our existence where one “measure[s] out [one’s] life with coffee spoons”, but more about how the pace of the day dictates the type of coffee I choose.
On slow days when I don’t have to rush off to class in the mornings, I grab the jar of ground beans to brew a pot of Arabica which I can enjoy over the course of the day. The instant coffee is for – well, instant days, I guess.
Tingren said that her “life must be quite a tragedy because [she] make[s] really bad coffee for [her]self”. I think all cups of coffee are potentially good cups to be savoured. Some days, you might need it stronger; sometimes, just a bit sweeter. It all depends on whether one wants to zhng one’s coffee, and if yes, what one does to make one’s coffee better.
If you ask me, I’d say, “Just drain the cup and make a fresh one.” One must not waste one’s calories on bad coffee.
