# Coffee, Chaos & Choosing Violence (The Legal Kind)
As I sit here this fine Wednesday morning, sipping on what can only be described as **hot bean-flavored betrayal**, I’m trying to decide if I can make a covert military operation out of driving to McCool and back before a single soul in this house wakes up.
Mission objective?
FINALLY try A Latte Coffee.
Because this cup of disappointment currently in my hand tastes like someone whispered the word “coffee” into a mug of hot water and called it good.
Absolutely disrespectful.
The real question isn’t *should* I go.
The real question is…
**Can I make it there, acquire the caffeine, return home, and be standing innocently in my kitchen before my family realizes I’ve disappeared?**
Operation Caffeinated Freedom is officially underway. PRAY I can aquire GOOD coffee today!!!
Now…
I need everyone to understand something.
I woke up today and chose…
Not violence.
Just **aggressive pettiness.**
There’s a difference.
I’m feeling just asshole-ish enough that I have this overwhelming desire to connect my phone to the Bluetooth speaker and absolutely **ASSAULT** my family’s eardrums with my cleaning playlist at full volume.
Good morning, sunshine!
WAKE THE FUCK UP!!
Mom’s rage-cleaning today!
Nothing motivates teenagers quite like hearing AC/DC at volumes normally reserved for aircraft carriers while their mother angrily scrubs baseboards they didn’t even know existed.
I don’t even care what song starts first.
If it has drums…
We’re cleaning to it.
If it has electric guitar…
The bathroom is getting disinfected.
If it makes the windows vibrate…
Congratulations, we’re also reorganizing the cupboards!
By the time these people crawl out of bed, I want them to think a cleaning crew, an exorcist, and a tornado all came through at the same damn time.
And then…
MOTHER NATURE… MY HOME GIRL
That magnificent, beautiful, sarcastic queen…
Looked down from the heavens.
Saw today’s to-do list.
Saw that it included working in the front yard, cleaning up the backyard, refolding those demon-spawn camping tents that NEVER go back into the bag they came out of, and generally pretending I enjoy manual labor…
…and she said…
**”Girl…abso-fucking-lutely not.”**
Cue the rain.
OH NO.
What a devastating development!!
Guess I can’t sweat my ass off outside today.
Guess I’ll just have to remain trapped…
Inside…
In my beautiful…
Air-conditioned…
House.
Thoughts and prayers during this incredibly difficult season of my life peeps!
I suppose I’ll just have to spend the morning rage-cleaning my pigsty while fueled by superior coffee (at least I HOPE), questionable life choices, and pure spite.
Honestly?
Spite is one of the strongest renewable energy sources known to women over 40.
If you happen to drive past my house today and hear music so loud your own children start cleaning… (YOURE WELCOME)
I’m creating memories. One day my children too will torture their children and think back fondly on how I TORTURED THEM!
And if my family doesn’t like the complimentary 7:00 AM concert…
They should’ve woken up before I started DJ Mom’s “Clean This Damn House” World Tour.
Now if you’ll excuse me…
I have a coffee mission to complete. IF I DON’T MAKE IT TO MCCOOL I might die.
Godspeed.
Pray for my speakers.
Leave a Reply