I drank an Americano last night. I haven’t ever had one before, so I don’t know if it’s always like this or just my mix, but somehow it was a perfectly fine drink ruined at the end by the quick but overwhelming taste of Nag Champa. I don’t want to narc on Campari’s Campari recipe but I’m willing to bet there’s sandalwood in there.
Anyway, yuck. Like finding a really tart Sweettart on the floor of a Grateful Dead concert and putting it in your mouth.
And I dragged my whole afghan there only to discover my crochet hook wasn’t in the bag, so that sucked. When I got home, it was on the living room floor.
Somehow it seemed fitting.