Precaffeinated

Lately, I've been having what you would call 'Blonde moments.' Except they have nothing to do with the color of my hair and everything to do with the caffeine in my blood system.
For example, earlier this week, I decided to get a jump on the morning and make my lunch, while my coffee was heating up.
OK, I buy this turkey that, while delicious, has a strong odor. It's sun dried tomato turkey. And usually, after I make my sandwich, I smell like lunch meat for the rest of the day. Not cool.
So I thought it would be a good idea to make my sandwich before I took my shower, therefore washing off the unwanted lunch funk.
I start making the sandwich and realize that I didn't buy that turkey this time, so the smell wasn't really a problem. No biggie, still going to be productive and have my lunch ready!
I wrap it up and stick it in the fridge. Right on top of the leftover macaroni and cheese.
That was for my lunch. And this wasn't just any macaroni and cheese. This was Pioneer Woman's "Fancy Macaroni." The kind of dish that is truly insulted to even be called Mac & Cheese, lest you confuse it with that powdered crap that comes in the blue box.
There was no way I was leaving all that luscious cheese, bacon and onion in the fridge. So, the sandwich stayed.
And twice this week, the microwave has betrayed me. Brad doesn't drink coffee, actually, he even hates the way it smells! So I drink the very classy Folger's instant coffee, since we use our coffee maker for tea.
In goes the cup full of water and bag-o-coffee, and usually out comes happiness and lucidity. But not always. Twice this week, the cup has, I don't know, exploded? And rather than happy coffee, I was greeted with a stained looking cup and a pool of mess I must clean up.
And of course, if I had already had my coffee, I might be able to figure out exactly what went wrong. But, alas, as I am precaffeinated at that point, all I can do is clean up the mess in confusion. It's like an evil caffeine catch 22 that I will forever be subject to. (well, at least on days when the microwave is mad at me.)
Brad chalks it up to my inability to properly heat anything. I can bake, decorate, create homemade soups, pastas and such with no problem. But the next day, reheating it? No. Can. Do. The bowl is hot, my food is cold. The edges crisp, the center frozen. And yes, I stirred it. Regardless, I can make a meal from scratch faster than I can reheat one.
Now if someone could just come up with some sort of early morning caffeine delivery system so that the caffeine is actually IN me and THAT is what wakes me up, I think I could figure out that microwave thing.