My coffee

Yesterday evening, I sipped on the decaffeinated coffee that arrived a few weeks ago in a sealed box addressed to the previous tenant of what has since become my condo. That would now also make this coffee my coffee.

Oh, really? You think I should repackage these remaining packets of exotic decaffeinated coffee and wait for my predecessor, a woman whose name escapes me, to come back for them. I've been here nearly two months, man. She has yet to show herself. The coast is clear.

That coffee tasted so good in my designer coffee mug last night. I'm definitely going to brew some more before I go to bed today. This time, maybe I'll add some Sambuca.