The microwave.
That’s where I found it: A wave of coffee splashed all over the left side of the appliance, light brown and smelling of French vanilla.
Now this puts me in an unfortunate debacle. I could leave the mess there on the principle that I didn’t make it, so it’s not my problem, but because I wanted that warm pick-me-up of green tea, I was stuck.
I suppose I could have heated my water up anyway– sufficiently baking the liquid into some sort of beige glue–but that’s beyond even my sense of comeuppance. Plus, whichever unassuming victim next steps up to the microwave will assume I was the jerkface who left the disaster zone in my wake.
Alas. I cleaned it up.
But I still felt like Pam in The Office … remember the microwave episode?