The Quirky Pause: Why My New Coffee Press Sat for Months

Michelle Labine, PhD

September 2025

I have a little ritual with new things. Well… “ritual” might be too generous a word. Let’s call it what it is: I buy something, and then I let it sit. For weeks. Sometimes months. Sometimes long enough that I forget what’s in the box.

Case in point: my new French press.

I already had one, a glass version that had been with me for years. We had a good thing going. But then this insulated, fancy, keeps-your-coffee-hot-for-hours French press caught my eye. I was convinced it would change my life. Click. Purchased. Victory.

And then?

It sat. Out of the box, perched on the coffee bar like some kind of stainless-steel art installation. Every morning I’d look at it, nod politely, and then reach for Old Faithful, the glass press. This went on for months. The new one just… lived there. Not unloved, not forgotten. Just waiting for me to be ready.

Why Do I Do This? (Spoiler: AuDHD Brain)

As a late-diagnosed Autistic and ADHD woman, I’ve learned this is one of my quirks and apparently, I’m not alone. There’s actually a logic to it (at least, that’s what I tell myself while the Amazon packages pile up).

• Change takes energy.
  It’s not just “make coffee differently.” It’s “reprogram my entire morning routine.” Muscle memory is stubborn, and my brain does not like rerouting before caffeine.
• The fantasy is sometimes enough.
  The idea of the new French press was delicious. I could picture myself sipping still-hot coffee at noon, living my best cozy, caffeinated life. Using it too soon might risk disappointment. Better to let the dream marinate.
• Slow and steady wins the change.
  For many of us, the familiar is soothing. My old French press wasn’t broken. It did the job. The new one represented… well, change. And honestly? I need to sidle up to change like it’s a shy cat. Quietly. Gently. On my terms.

The Moment of Truth

One morning, without ceremony, I finally reached for the new press. No pep talk. No overthinking. Just: “Okay, let’s do this.”

And…drumroll…it was great. Coffee stayed warm. The promise was real.

Did I regret waiting months to try it? Not at all. Because by the time I used it, I was ready.

From Quirk to Wisdom

I used to give myself grief about this. Why spend money if you’re not going to use it right away? Why can’t you be normal and just rip open the box like everyone else?

But here’s the thing: this pause is how my brain negotiates change. It’s a safety buffer. A warm-up lap. The quirky little space between “buying the thing” and “becoming a person who uses the thing.”

So now, instead of calling it procrastination, I call it patience.

And if you also let new gadgets, books, or kitchen tools linger for a while before jumping in, maybe it’s not wasted time. Maybe it’s your nervous system asking for a little courtesy. Maybe it’s your brain’s way of saying: “Let’s date this object casually before we commit.”