It's a cliche, but it works

Sunday morning: jazz (Miles and now Coltrane). Salmon bagels. Music and books pages from Fri and Sat papers.
And coffee.

Tho that did lead to a situation, I'm guessing there's a German word for it...

Panic, when you reach, blindly, for your coffee cup and find empty air. The cold clutches your heart, the brain freezes, then begins to move, slowly, and you realise you'd topped it up and left it on the bench.

B