Seattle writer discovers the awesome efficiency and cost-savings deliciousness* of brewing espresso in a macchinetta; loses main reason to currently leave house.

Oh, man.

Between this and the fact that I have started netflixing Angel** (yeah, you read correctly. I never watched it the first time around. Buffy, yes, though not religiously. Firefly, religiously), I don’t ever have to do anything that isn’t survival-related outside again***.

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.

*Seriously. It is really, really good. I know someone will argue me over the fact that “stovetop” espresso is different, blah blah blah. But I don’t care. I milk and sugar it up and it tastes spectacular. Plus, the low-tech of the whole thing amuses me to no end. It’s magic. MAGIC.
**I have also never read a Harry Potter book. Not one.
***This is not necessarily a good thing. At all. Being unemployed and having some rocky personal stuff tends to hermit me inside anyway, but now I don’t even venture farther than my stovetop, mailbox, or keyboard.