Hiccup In Our Affair

Drinking a hot cup of black coffee in the morning used to inspire me to face the world.  When I had my first cup of coffee after a month of abstinence, I felt terrible.

In the middle of August, I promised myself that I would give up my favorite drink (coffee, in case it wasn’t obvious) for Ramadan.  I’m not a Muslim but my boss and a number of my friends are.  Having observed some of the different impetuses that drive them to observe this month of fasting, I was inspired me to do something myself.

The problem with this whole scenario is that I’m not known for my willpower.  In fact, there is a group of people that sticks around to live vicariously through my lack thereof.  Needless to say, nobody thought I’d make it through this month.

But I did it! HA.

When Eid (the festival marking the end of Ramadan) rolled aroundl, I staged my own personal celebration.  That morning I tottered over to my kitchen (only a few convenient steps from my bed), wiped the dust from my French press, and made myself a fresh cup of coffee.  The taste was all right but the after effects were pretty devastating. The caffeine hit me like a ton of brick margaritas.

I totally lost it.  After freaking out at my blow drier, slamming the dishes around in my sink, and hating myself for not being in grad school, I put down the coffee mug. Granted, everybody has mornings like that (and if you don’t, I’m having you added to a very special government list under “robot”) but the correlation was too wack.

It’s been about three weeks since I started drinking coffee again, but I’m not back up to the full calliber I once was.  In the morning I drink a strong cup of ginger tea (with enough black pepper to last you till next week) and a cup of vanilla chai instead of my usual double shot of espresso (I’m a barista with a weak spot for some fine Italian beans).  I feel a lot more chill now than I ever did. 

So in the end I guess I accomplished what I set out to imitate: I kicked an addiction I didn’t even know I had!

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