I have been a coffee drinker since… well, since I was old enough to drink coffee, I guess. So, we’re talking decades.
I remember my first Tim Horton’s coffee. Up until that moment, I drank instant, or the bitter brew served up in the cafeteria at work. But one Saturday, the boss brought us donuts and coffee from the newly opened chain down the street. That was it. I was hooked.
For the next thirty years, I was a Timmie’s disciple. Every morning, I stopped at the local shop for my daily hit.
Friends and family chided me. Like Dan, who wrote just today, they’d say, “It’s not like coffee is a requirement.”
I’d give them the hairy eyeball.
“Well, OK, it is, but you can brew your own at home, you don’t have to stop at [Tim Hortons].”
I tried to make coffee at home, but I couldn’t manage to brew a decent cup to save my life. Or so I told myself.
I actually devoted time and anxiety to solve problems like Christmas – the one day a year that the store closes. When traveling, I’d plan my routes via towns that had a shop. In those days, franchises were just starting to spring up in the rural towns. My addiction was really rather pathetic. I knew it then, but I managed to suppress the inner judge.
I’d suppress the nagging voices even deeper when I read articles on the harm caused by caffeine. Of course, if a story touted the benefits of the bean, well! Next round is on me! The net effect of these conflicting studies is that I turned into a cynical caffeine addict.
Eventually, I learned to brew a decent pot of coffee at home. Bonus! I could kick-start my day with not one, but TWO large mugs of the stuff.
Meanwhile, I know that I am asking for health trouble with the caffeine dependency.
Oh. And let’s not forget! I take my coffee with double cream.
I’ve tried to quit a few times. My most recent effort began about six months ago when I started to drink half-caff. The plan was to wean myself to full decaf “at some point.”
It was a worthwhile strategy. I discovered that I had been living in a state of perpetual “prickliness.” On the half-caff regimen, annoying stuff (i.e. hubby) didn’t annoy me any more.
But I forgot about the weaning part.
That is until seven days ago. I caught one of those vile nasty winter bugs and have been sick in bed. For a week, I’ve been knocking back the ibuprofen, eating saltines, and drinking plenty of water. The thought of drinking coffee turned my stomach. So, lucky for me, I was feeling too miserable with my cold to notice withdrawal symptoms.
No time like the present, right? Let’s take advantage of the situation and make the change now. Right?
This morning, feeling somewhat better, I stepped into the kitchen to feed the cats, fire up the computer, and put on the coffee.
Except, when I reached for the beans, my stomach lurched.
I made tea instead. With a splash of 2%.
I hope that this java-jive, this coffee dance that I do, is over. I’m pretty sure that only good things will come from this. I’ll feel better, sleep better, lose some weight, write the next great Canadian Novel… you get the idea.
Wish me luck!
Categories: In Other News