My thermos tried to kill me.

Well, not my thermos, but Anne's thermos. And to be even more clear, it's not a Thermos™. It's just a thermos.

Anyway, this morning, Anne made some coffee and offered me her old tea thermos (which she doesn't use anymore because she thought it got too gross on the inside, but is apparently good enough for me) to take some with me to work. I'm having staying awake issues, so some coffee sounded great. I pop it into my bag and I'm off on my commute.

So half an hour later or so, I get to my office, take off my coat, turn on my computer. You know, the usual office morning stuff. I pull out the thermos, pop it open and take a drink and it BURNS MY MOUTH! What the hell? That coffee was made over 30 minutes ago. It should be drinkable by now.

Damn thermos. You think you're so great, with your vacuum flask and your silvered interior reflecting radiant heat. Ooooh, I can keep hot things hot and cold things cold, aren't I special. Well, let me tell you something, thermos. If I wanted to burn my mouth, I could have done it at home trying to drink too-hot coffee as I rushed out the door. I didn't need your help for that.

On the other hand, I suppose you were just doing you job. I guess I'll forgive you. Let's kiss and make up.

Dammit! Still too hot!