I have this small, insignificant, minor, teensy-weensy, tiny little addiction to coffee. I freaking love it! Which is funny because I never used to like it and never had any desire to drink it until a couple of years ago. It was summertime and I had been pushing pretty hard at work for a few weeks, not getting enough sleep, and walking around like a zombie, so I finally broke down and got some coffee to make it through the day. Starbucks *just happened* to be the nearest coffee shop. As though they're not on every street corner. I ordered a large coffee. "Venti Drip"?? Sure, whatever. It was terrible. Bitter and scorching hot. No amount of cream or sugar could have made it better.And of course I didn't just get a normal amount of sleep. I kept pushing it. So I finally figured out what the hell all of those gourmet drinks on the menu are, and I was introduced to my first latte. Let the angels rejoice! All the caffeine, but mostly just warm milk. Yum. That's all it took, I was hooked. Since then? Pretty much a consistent stop at Starbucks every morning. It's heavenly. I love Starbucks. Not so much the prices, but pretty much everything else.
Heh.
I first quit drinking coffee during Detox Round 1. I wanted to do it. I don't particularly like being addicted to coffee, or anything else for that matter. Coffee stains your teeth, it's expensive, not really good for you, and I think it makes me sleepier in the morning. It wasn't too difficult. Green tea for a couple of weeks and I was good. That lasted probably two months. And so follows the story of my reclamation.
I walked into the coffee shop before work one morning for the first time in a couple of months. I can't remember if I was tired or what. It was a gorgeous cool spring morning, the air felt good and the sun was warm. When I stepped through the door I could smell the coffee and I saw "the barrista".
Right. So there's this barrista. He's the stereotypical coffee shop guy. Not overly attractive, messy hair (when it's not bic'ed off), piercings, trendy glasses, and he always knows what I want to order. (Never mind that he knows what everybody wants to order.) He's the type of guy you imagine sitting in the park wearing all black, hunched over a sketchbook, the fingers in one hand running through his hair, a pencil nub and half-burned cigarette in the other hand scratching away at poetry or a drawing. I imagine he thinks very pensive thoughts about very deep things. It's not really about the barrista, just that image, that feeling. Sort of like the coffee shop would somehow be incomplete without him there. He's just part of the whole experience.
Regardless, it just felt so comforting and familiar. I didn't realize how much I missed it. I didn't intend to start drinking coffee every morning again. But it felt so nice and it stimulated all kinds of emotion in me. It really made me happy. It made me shiver with delight and I got goose bumps on my arms and up the back of my neck.
...
So since it's taper week I've been substituting green tea. It's been three days since my last cup of coffee.
