I had planned to write so many posts for my birthday. Turning forty-two felt like it needed a whole anthology: the difference between being forty-one in an ED relapse, and forty-two in recovery; everything I’ve done in the last six months; how far I’ve come; how things have shifted and softened. I imagined myself waxing poetic about it all – or making sarcastic comments about the bits that weren’t poetic at all and mentioning Douglas Adams far too much.

But, as I mentioned in my last post, I really haven’t been well. Not emotionally, not physically, not at the level where I could sit down and string sentences together. Even writing blog posts – which normally untangle my brain – has felt like trying to text underwater.

However, it’s not all bad.
I did buy myself a new coffee machine in the Black Friday sales, and my life has been infinitely better for the five minutes my coffee actually lasts. Honestly, it’s the closest I’ve come to a bit of peace in the last few weeks.

The Mould of Doom

I mentioned the mould allergy flare in my last post, but I didn’t say why. Well. My building is currently a full-time construction site. Something went catastrophically wrong with the “repairs” (quotation marks absolutely necessary), and now there’s a GIANT leak somewhere so bad that entire parts of the building are inaccessible and have to be aired out.

Because of all the work going on, the housing company can’t actually fix the leak yet. And the roof in my flat is also leaking – their solution was to hand me a bucket like I’d just gone to the GP with something “not imminently life-threatening.”
“It’s just a bit of water, what do you want us to do about it?”
Brilliant, thank you. I’ll just monitor my new indoor water feature and hope our lives don’t quietly turn into the deeply awful plotline that is the movie Waterworld.

Unfortunately, my son and I both have terrible mould allergies so while it’s not imminently life threatening it is imminently life altering. So now that we’re basically living inside a damp Minecraft cave biome, we’ve been really sick. I’ve been coughing, getting daily nosebleeds, burning eyes, dizziness, ear trouble – and both of us feel like we have the flu 24/7. Our faces feel like we’ve been swimming in Minecraft lava (again). It’s miserable. And there’s nothing we can do.

My son is struggling to keep on top of his Uni work. I’m exhausted on the sofa most of the day. Every task feels like a questline I’m under-levelled for. Everything has been getting on top of us – especially with me reducing my meal plan because I physically can’t move enough to match the calories.

We desperately needed something to cheer us up. Anything.
A glimmer of hope.
A buff.
A Golden apple.
A strategically placed med pack.
A +2 to Morale.

And then I saw it:
a Dolce Gusto coffee machine on Black Friday on Amazon.

Goodbye Tassimo, HELLO STARBUCKS COFFEE

We previously had a Tassimo machine, and although I did like it a lot, I’ve often stood in Asda staring longingly at the Starbucks pods that only work with Dolce Gusto machines. Starbucks at home sounded like the dream. My son and I love Starbucks – I’ve mentioned it enough on this blog that if you’ve read even one post, you already know this. It’s one of our safe spaces. A little home from home.

So when I saw the Dolce Gusto machine in the Black Friday sale, reduced from £90 to £30, I was gone. It was the exact one I’d been eyeing up for months. My son and I drink enough coffee every day to justify the purchase, and honestly, having multiple Starbucks a day has got to help the situation. I don’t know what Starbucks put in their coffee, but it’s an instant mood boost – so surely more Starbucks = more mood boost. Maths.

When the machine was due to be delivered, I overslept (fatigue has been flooring me lately) and slept through the Amazon delivery guy, and apparently all his calls and texts too. Luckily, he left the parcel outside the front door. I woke up, saw a photo of my door on my phone, bolted to the hallway, and there it was – my saviour to love is real.

The only issue? I hadn’t ordered any pods. Because apparently my brain fog is so bad that I completely forgot the machine requires the pods I’ve been staring at in Asda for months in order to actually make coffee.

So I drank one final, sorrowful Tassimo coffee, got dressed, and headed straight to Asda fuelled purely by the adrenaline of impending Starbucks-at-home. I looked an absolute mess, but who cares – I was on a mission.

Returning triumphantly with a bag full of pods, I was finally able to unbox the machine and soothe my soul with coffee as dark as I feel.

Americano Dreams

I bought my son his favourite Starbucks pods – white mocha and caramel macchiato – and I got myself the Starbucks Americano house blend, plain macchiato, and some decaffeinated pods because I need at least four of those a day just to function like a semi-conscious human.

Once I’d unboxed the machine, cleaned it, filled it with water, and generally treated it like a sacred ritual, I popped in the Americano pod while loudly narrating the entire experience to my son:

“IT ALREADY SMELLS EXACTLY LIKE STARBUCKS, OMG.”

I didn’t expect it to taste exactly like Starbucks though. The Costa Tassimo pods definitely don’t taste like Costa – they taste like someone burnt the beans, the machine, and possibly the building. They also come out at 600°C and take about four years to cool down. You can’t taste any notes of the coffee because your soul has already left your body from the first sip.

But the Dolce Gusto?
Not scorching hot.
Clean.
Clear.
Fragrant.

The moment the coffee hit the cup, I could smell the actual notes of Starbucks coffee.

And then I tasted it…

WOW.
It tastes EXACTLY like Starbucks. All the familiar notes of Starbucks danced on my tongue. It was like being in the store – minus the Pumpkin King of Starbucks (you know the one). Instant mood boost.

I practically vibrated with joy. I made my son his white mocha and he LOVED it. We sat together feeling poorly, drinking our favourite coffees in our own house, and honestly it was so comforting. I was shocked at how clean the coffee tasted. I guess that’s what happens when the coffee isn’t burnt into its next life.

I’ve had many coffees since, and it’s genuinely lovely to have Starbucks first thing in the morning. Even better: I don’t have to wait ages for it to cool down to a non-lava-state. Much needed, especially with this fatigue nonsense – coffee only takes the edge off, but I could NOT cope without it right now.

The macchiato pods were another surprise. Tassimo milk pods were fine, but the Dolce Gusto ones? They taste indistinguishable from real milk. It feels like a bigger, warmer, cuddlier hug-in-a-mug.

Honestly, the novelty and joy have been a lifesaver. I’m missing sourdough so much while I’m on this reduced meal plan and sofa existence, and the Starbucks-at-home excitement has helped me IMMENSELY with that whole “broken hunger cues” situation. I genuinely don’t know how I’d have gotten through this adjustment period without it.

If You Need Me I’ll Be By the Coffee Machine

Sometimes the life‑changing purchases aren’t the big ones – not the houses we can’t afford, or the cars we can’t maintain in this economy. Sometimes they’re the random Black Friday coffee machines you buy in a moment of desperation while hoping your flat doesn’t collapse or get fully taken over by the mould colony attempting a coup d’état.

I still feel awful, and I’m still worried about my son feeling awful too. I’m still missing my sourdough and my usual routines. But now there are small, warm pockets of joy in my day – little Starbucks‑scented reminders that even in all this chaos, comfort still exists.

And for now?
That’ll have to do.
If you need me, I’ll be by the coffee machine inhaling notes of coffee trying to clear my respiratory system of mould.

The song for this post is dedicated to my coffee machine:-
When food is gone, you are my daily meal… ohhhh.