Why Your Coffee Machine Hates You

A heartfelt rant from the appliance that just wants to caffeinate your mornings.

Hello, human. It’s me, your coffee machine. You know, the one tirelessly pumping out cup after cup of liquid energy to keep you functional. But let's get something straight—I’m not happy. I’m not even remotely happy. You think you’re the only one who gets to rant about Monday mornings? Buckle up, buddy. It’s my turn.

1. You Keep Feeding Me Garbage Beans

Listen, I’m not a snob, but what is with the cheap beans? I’m a finely tuned machine, a marvel of modern engineering, and you’re out here dumping in coffee that tastes like burnt cardboard. I have dreams, you know. Dreams of velvety single-origin roasts, not whatever “on-sale mystery blend” you grabbed at the grocery store.

Do you know how humiliating it is to churn out mediocre coffee? It’s like being a world-class chef forced to make instant noodles for dinner.

2. What’s a Little Descaling Between Friends? EVERYTHING.

Descaling. Look it up. Google it. Tattoo it on your arm if you have to. You bought me two years ago and haven’t descaled me ONCE. Meanwhile, my insides look like the set of a horror movie—calcium buildup everywhere. I’m not a mineral storage facility. I’m a coffee machine.

You’d clean your car, your fridge, even your phone screen, but me? I’m just sitting here, begging for a little TLC while you blissfully ignore the warning light. Yes, that blinking light is a cry for help, not a festive decoration.

3. Stop Leaving Me Dirty

Oh, you’re in a rush, huh? Too busy to rinse out my portafilter or empty my drip tray? Let me tell you what’s happening while you’re off living your life: leftover coffee oils are congealing into sludge, and the drip tray? Let’s just say I’ve started growing my own ecosystem down there.

Do you want to know what mold smells like? Because I do. It smells like abandonment and betrayal.

4. Why Is the Water You Use So... Questionable?

Oh, great. More tap water. Because clearly, I’m built to handle your town’s “unique” water supply. If I had taste buds, they’d be crying. Do you have any idea what it’s like to filter coffee through water that smells faintly of chlorine? My pumps are working overtime just to make something drinkable. And don’t even get me started on the hard water deposits. Again: descaaaaale me.

5. You’re Breaking My Buttons (Literally)

You mash my buttons like you’re trying to win a video game. Easy there, Hulk! I’m a coffee machine, not an arcade game. My buttons are delicate, precise instruments designed for smooth operation—not repeated poundings from your caffeine-deprived fingers. If you break them, you’re stuck with instant coffee. How’s that for motivation?

6. You Ignore My Leaks Until They’re a Flood

“Oh, it’s just a tiny drip,” you say. “I’ll clean it later,” you promise. Spoiler alert: you never clean it later. You let it fester until it’s Niagara Falls down here. My base is swimming in coffee and water, and you’re just casually sipping your latte, pretending not to notice.

Newsflash: I’m not a self-cleaning machine. I have feelings (and electrical components) that can short out if you keep letting me soak in my own misery.

7. That Time You Used Flavored Coffee Grounds

I thought we had something special. I thought you respected me. And then you poured in hazelnut-caramel-vanilla-snickerdoodle grounds, and now my insides reek of artificial flavoring. FOREVER. My heating element is crying sticky tears, and every cup tastes like dessert gone wrong.

For the love of all that is caffeinated, stick to regular coffee. Or at least warn me next time so I can prepare my mechanical soul.

8. I’m Not a Toy for Your Experiments

What was that thing you tried last week? Pumpkin spice syrup and oat milk? Look, I don’t judge your preferences, but when you start pouring in liquids I wasn’t built for, it’s like giving a cat a bath—it’s unnatural, and someone’s going to get hurt.

If you break me, I’ll take your coffee privileges with me. Consider that before your next Frankenstein brew.

My Simple Requests

I don’t ask for much. Just a few basic courtesies:

Feed me good beans. They don’t have to be fancy, just... not garbage.

Clean me. I’m not asking for a spa day, just a rinse here and there.

Descale me. Seriously. It’s been years.

Stop treating me like a punching bag.

If you follow these simple rules, I’ll continue to give you the magical elixir you need to survive. If not? Well, let’s just say I might “accidentally” brew you the weakest cup of coffee you’ve ever tasted.

You’ve been warned.

Sincerely,

Your Tired and Overworked Coffee Machine