Coffee Minus the Cup

Every morning, it’s the same routine. I put a pod in the coffee maker, mix my protein powder into creamer, take my vitamin, and tidy up while the coffee brews. The whole thing takes just a few minutes.

Today was exactly like every other day, except for one small detail: I forgot to put a cup under the coffee maker. An entire cup of coffee brewed straight onto the counter, overflowing and spilling everywhere, and somehow I noticed none of it.

But the best part? When I went to get my coffee, I stood there wondering where it was. It took me a good two or three seconds to realize there was no cup. Apparently, I need coffee to make coffee!

I can help manage a business, plan a trip across the country, help my parents and be there for my husband and daughter, but putting a cup under the coffee maker is where my skill set ends.

I wasn’t even trying something new. This is a task I’ve completed successfully thousands of times. You’d think I would have earned some muscle memory by now. Instead, my brain remembered the protein powder, the creamer, and the vitamin, then decided the cup was an optional accessory.

I’m choosing to laugh about it. Mostly because the alternative is admitting I stood in a puddle of coffee wondering where my coffee was.

I cleaned it all up and started again, this time giving the process my full attention. Cup in place. Pod in place. Button pressed. Apparently, making coffee is no longer something I can be trusted to do without adult supervision. Which is unfortunate, since I’m technically the adult.

While it brewed, I started thinking about how much attention I give everything else. I spend a lot of time making sure everyone has what they need. I check in, remember the details, and try to think ahead. But when it comes to myself, I tend to assume I can keep going without much attention. Maybe my brain has picked up that habit from me.

I decided I didn't need to turn a missing coffee cup into a major life lesson, since I certainly didn't need one more thing to worry about. Sometimes you just forget the cup or at least that was what I tried to tell myself. But it did make me wonder when I last gave myself a few minutes that weren’t spent preparing something, answering a text or call, picking up someone’s medication, doing laundry, catching up on work, cleaning, or thinking about what needed to happen next.

I think a lot of us women get used to putting everyone else ahead of ourselves. Somehow, I grew up believing that was what I was supposed to do. While I give myself more time and attention than I used to, I still find ways to give everyone else even more.

I don’t want my worth to depend on what I give. But I can see how easily I slip into measuring my day by what I did for someone else. Did I help enough? Did I remember everything? Is everyone okay? My own needs tend to become something I’ll get to once all of that is taken care of. Somehow, there’s always one more thing.

But maybe I need to take this one step further. Yesterday, my husband told me I don’t need to manage and do everything. I can let other people step up. My immediate response was, “What if they don’t?” He simply said, “Okay, so?”

I went straight into defensive mode. “Well, then nothing will get done if someone doesn’t take charge.” Again, he said, “So?” At the time, I was annoyed. I had an entire argument prepared about why I needed to keep doing everything, and he kept responding with one word. Very inconvenient.

But maybe he has a point. Some things really do need my attention. Others might get done differently, take longer, or sit unfinished for a while. I tend to treat all of them like they’re equally urgent, and my instinct is to step in before I find out what would happen if I didn’t.

Maybe someone else would figure it out. Maybe something would wait. Maybe I’d be uncomfortable watching it wait.  Ah ha! That may be the key here, but maybe being uncomfortable doesn’t necessarily mean I need to get up and handle it.

What’s the worst that could happen? I might get a little break. Apparently, that possibility requires more convincing than it should.

I don’t know whether the coffee situation meant anything beyond forgetting a cup. But it gave me a reason to pause, and maybe I could let that be enough. I could set something down without first proving I was exhausted enough to deserve it.

So when my second cup was ready, I sat down with it. For those few minutes, I let the next thing wait.

Plot twist: I remembered the cup. Then I remembered myself.