I awoke humming Barry Manilow (American Bandstand? What the heck?) music, and went downstairs to find that the coffee made was "Pumpkin Spice" flavored. Who invented that? Such cruelty to disparage coffee that way (almost as bad as the "Cranberry Cream" coffee that DH purchased). Ick. Why can't coffee just be coffee? Then I turn to my trusty Yerba Mate tea, and we are, sadly, OUT.
I should just go back to bed. This can't bode well for my day.