Dear Keurig coffee brewer,

Hey babe. I’d like to remind you that you are simply the best. Your love is my drug, as the young muse Ke$ha once quipped. I also now think of K-cups as a legitimate currency. But only the good K-cups, none of that Costco Kirkland brand crap. In short, your existence has been the primary reason for my college survival. Nothing gets me going in the morning like a good cup o’ joe, and you always pull through buddy. But the other day, we went through a bit of an emotional roller coaster. I will explain this through a good old rendition of the good, the bad and the ugly. Superfreaky.

First off, the good. I woke up in the morning and popped in my regular Donut Shop K-cup. I poured my usual 10 ounces of water into my black Keurig Mini Plus (aka soul mate, alone 5ever) and hit the glowing blue brew button. A few minutes later, warm coffee started to pour out, ready to warm my frigid, heartless body with some medium roast love. A few sippity-sips later, and my once full thermos had switched from full to completely barren. “Wow, that’s empty,” I said (talking to myself, per usual). Anyways, the moral of the story is that on this fateful day, you pulled through with some excellent java at first. But then, lunchtime rolled around, and you changed for the worse.

So it was 1 p.m. and I needed a little afternoon-pick-me-up. It was between another cup of coffee or a nap. I went for the coffee, as I had a class coming up shortly. So I repeated my usual process: 10 ounces, Donut Shop K-cup, cry a bit. Except this time, something went awfully wrong. When the 10 ounce limit is exceeded on a Keurig Mini, the leftover water usually drains into the adjacent drip tray. But this time, the remains decided to pour out the back and all over my desk, drenching everything in sight. It became some sketchy swamp status. Tissues were the only absorbent thing I had on hand, so I resorted to those. It was awful, Keurig, and I slightly doubted your motives at this point. But everyone makes mistakes, and I thought you had just wronged me this one time.

Until later that night. I was preparing for a late night at Ginn Library. Before going to cohabitate amongst the odd breed that is the grad student, I decided that an extra cup of coffee would the hit the spot and help me resist the temptation of snoozing while writing my essay. Yet again, I went through my regular routine. The water didn’t flow out like last time, and my K-cup went in with ease. I put my reusable Starbucks coffee cup under the spigot and was ready to rumble. The first ten ounces came out wonderfully, and there was room for more. I unfortunately overestimated the space left within my cup, and poured too much into the reservoir for another brew cycle. I went to pull my cup out and replace it with a mug as the coffee approached the brim of my cup. But of course, the cup was jammed under the machine. Panic set in as I went to pull the plug out, but Mr. K kept pumping out that liquid regardless. Coffee started to overflow onto everything, and I just froze in a state of utter confusion, anxiety and mild horror. I managed to deflect the coffee into the drip tray with a bank statement and some nearby scissors, but the damage had already been done. Coffee everywhere. I cried real tears, Kim Karadashian crying face status. And the coffee tasted weird too.

So Keurig, you’ve done goofed. But I’ll accept your apology, as a true friend should, and because I’ve developed a mild life-dependency on you. LYLAS.