Expectations. Hope. Coffee.

Expectations come with hope.

You expect you've been good for the year, so you hope Santa brings you a puppy for Christmas. 

Those were the years. 

 

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Now, I am older. As of February, I am one year shy of thirty.
Until this year I didn't really pay much attention to politics. 

I expected the officials who got elected to do their job. 

I hoped a deal would be struck before the budget was sequestered. 

Now, the only government office to not have their budget be affected by their inability to do their job is their own salaries.

I probably wouldn't give this any thought, except it affects my sister who was an officer in the Navy until last year and her husband who is an active officer in the Marines. They have both been serving their country since Sept 11, 2001.

But that's not the rest of the story, it affects my household too. 

This sequestered budget forces my husband to be furloughed. 

We will lose a significant portion of his salary. 

Since I am a stay-at-home mom, his salary is our only source of income.

Today, he told me this might not be the worst to come.

If March 27 passes with congress not meeting the budget deadline, it could be much worse.

And not just for us. I know there are many people who will be affected by all of this inaction.

To cope with these current events, I did the only thing I could think to do. 

I made coffee.

With a manual grinder, I ground Blue Mountain Jamaica roast.

I have been dying to try this coffee!

I did not buy green beans and roast them.
I could never afford them! Five pounds of green beans cost $240!

Already roasted bean were given to me as a gift from my in-laws when they got back from a vacation in Jamaica. 

It was like Christmas to me!

Expectations that this was going to be the best cup of coffee ever in order to assuage the pain of our current situation were high.

I brewed it with the manual press, poured it into two mugs and sat with my husband on the sofa. 

Top Gear (U.K) was on Netflix and our son was napping.

The heat from the cups warmed my perpetual cold hands. Raising to my lips, I sipped.

I don't know what flavors I was expecting, but they didn't come.

Thinking of how coffee changes flavor with different temperatures, I waited for it to cool and took another sip.

This was repeated until the coffee was gone. 

Looking at my hubby, my face showed my question and opinion. 

"I agree," was all he said in reply.

It had been an incredibly smooth cup of coffee. 

It had nothing repugnant about it.

It also had nothing remarkable either.

No flavor.

I was less disappointed on every Christmas morning growing up when all the gifts from Santa had been opened to discover he didn't give me the one thing I had really hoped for. A puppy.

I still hold out hope that Congress won't crush my expectations for them to do the job they have been elected to do. Their lives are not being affected, but my family's, my sister's family and many peoples family's will be affected. 

I would drink that unremarkable coffee every day, because it holds the promise of something better when I finish drinking all the beans. That the replacement beans will be better.

The same holds for our elected officials.

I will, my family will, make it through this crisis with hope because of the promise of being an American. There will be another election in 2014 where the officials who have not done their jobs can be replaced, just like my coffee.