Monday, March 30, 2009


Unlike most folks of my age, and even more unlike those who share in the profession of rising long before the crack of dawn, I'm not a coffee drinker. I've always loved the smell and I learned young how to prepare a cup whether it be in a counter top push button model or a good old fashion stove-top percolator I've been fixing coffee for others for years. Mothers day breakfast in bed, milk, no sugar. Thanksgiving in the brown plug in with the pour spout. Always reveling in the smell and wondering when the day would come when I'd be grown up enough to like it and enjoy the array of flavors as I do it's aroma.

While I'm still waiting for the day when I'm all grown up, I do realize I've reached adulthood. My responsibilities are tedious and I cringe at the thought of where I've led myself thus far and the lingering consequences if I neglect the many obligations we become shackled to. Though I have made it to this point and still have yet to be a faithful cup-a-joe a day, must-have-before-I-can-function, flavored-is-for-wanna-be-coffee-drinkers kind of gal. I still have the *blagh nope, still don't like it* reaction when the smell pulls me in. I ocassionally force it on myself when I'm having a particularly delusion brought on by sleep deprevation that as much as I dislike it, it will help me make it through. I've on all occasions in the long ago past, found that; and this includes all sugar products like soda (which doesn't really inhabit my diet now-a-days) candy and the like; caffine has a difficult time penetrating my overly relaxed demenor.

After years of continually trying to fool myself that being overtired merits the punishment of a cup of coffee, I have noticed, the punishment is to no avail a dud. In my continued attempt to have some solice from droopy eyes and a muddled mind, I have made the discovery that I'm not what one would call at caffine light weight. I'm of the 200 pound weight class and if you were, in the instance of booze, trying to turn a person of this class to a state of handing over their keys, it would take more than a sea breeze or two. Sure you could feed a steady stream for period of time and hope they drink fast enough. If you're really trying to lay them on their back, your going to go for the hard stuff straight up, no ice...I'm aware that this may sound slightly like I'm in the business of incapacitating people for sport, but it's an analogy that is closely related to where I'm going with this coffee issue.

So to get to my point, if I drink enough coffee all at once, I get the desired effect that one anticipates from the beloved morning elixir. Though unfortunately there's no in between. I drink a straight cup of the black stuff and nothing. I drink, as the market has named it (I think), the Hammerhead (coffee with a shot of espresso), I end up with a twitch.

This wordy narrative was all to pretense my morning....

I got to work, did some stuff, slowly, took a quick break that would usually cause a detrimental problem in my timing of the mornings schedule, drank (half a cup) of the concoction noted above and was well on my way to burning a path in the floor. Eyes wide open and mind buzzing about, as I reflect, nothing at all significant, which is nice sometimes. I do recall having a thoughtful internal discussion about the results of this successful caffine-straight-to-the-bloodstream experience. Does it mean that for some coffee and it's close relatives are an aquired taste? Do some people just drink it because of it's effects not for the taste? This leads me to another opportunity to compare it to alcohol. I think you can bridge the gap. Should I try to suck down this not so enjoyable beverage every morning for a week to see if, at the end of the week it has become more appealing to my taste buds? Or should I stick to my current trend of enjoying my usual cup of tea until the occasion arises when I'm desperate for a funtional pick-me-up? All questions I plan to ponder, most likely over tomorrows hammerhead.....

Signing off.

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