No Such Thing As Moderation!

Ah coffee. Many a blogger has, I'm sure, expressed his or her love of this luscious drink. The way it pulls one from the dead of sleep to the light of day so easily. Drink it black, milky, or sweet, it still works.

Except it no longer works on me. About the only thing coffee does to me anymore is keep me from being caffeine deprived. No bueno. Not at all. The last time I went a whole morning without coffee, though I had had a good night's sleep, I felt like a zombie. My whole body sagged towards the floor as my head pounded and my jaw slackened. The peeps I was with sat chatting away cheerily, for they are not slaves to caffeine addiction. Eventually one of them noticed and mentioned that we ought to get moving, and I got what I needed.

These days drinking a cup of coffee does not wake me up. It's more like it used to be, before I ever started drinking it. You know, you wake up, you're tired, you go to work or school or whatever. I may as well not even be drinking it, as it does nothing. It just perpetuates the need.

And yet...how wonderful that first cup, how refreshing the second. How nice it is, if someone asks you, "Would you like to get a cup of coffee with me?" to say yes (unless you find that person utterly repulsive). How adventuresome one feels to try a new flavor for the first time and find that it exceeds all flavors before it. The variations of caffeinated beverages rise high above me in the grocery store: coffee, espresso, black tea, chai tea...

And how delightful it is to have a cup of milky, unsweetened coffee with sugary cereal, or a pastry, or waffles, in the morning. How satisfying. So much so that I'm tempted to go right back to bed.

I am so. fucking. tired. Hook me up an IV of pure caffeine, please, kthxbi.