Getting up in the morning is hard.
And getting up in the morning in the dark and with a baby is harder.
And getting up in the morning in the dark and with a baby is harder.
But getting up in the morning in the dark, with a baby and getting out of the house looking vaguely professional? that's a different kettle of where-the-hell-is-my-oyster-card-at.
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| giving the side eye |
What if I told you I could make it at least a little better?
What if I told you there was an amazing magical automated coffee machine with a programable timer that would MAKE YOUR COFFEE FOR WHEN YOU GET UP?
But the price you'd have to pay would be drinking filter coffee and lying in bed at night (after loading the machine, naturally) with the sneaking feeling pressing under your ribs that you'd accidentally taken some kind of lost backwoods turning on the coffee highway (turn left at teasmade) leading inexorably backward from the black silk of Illy espresso to buying cappuccino in MacDonalds and drinking Nescafe and there's no coming back?
Clearly the answer should be MY FRIEND, GIVE ME THE DAMN MACHINE.
I am such a convert. You should probably buy one.
PA, sweetly, turns a blind eye.
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