It’s official. I’m addicted to caffeine. Not like I didn’t know this, but I guess I was just living in denial. But it’s okay. Really, it is. As long as I get my daily fix, no one gets hurt.
My schedule was derailed this morning due to a midday mattress delivery. Had to be home between 10 a.m. and 1 p.m. So I got to work by 7 this morning, powered through a few hours at the office sans my cup of Joe, and drove back home to wait patiently for the men with the beds. Except I couldn’t be patient. I needed my coffee. I could feel the withdrawal symptoms coming on strong. I debated running around the block to the coffee shop, watching all the way for the delivery truck. But what if I missed them? Then this whole schedule-shuffle would be in vain! No, I’d have to stay put. I can never justify making a whole pot of coffee for just me, so I grabbed my single-serving french press from the depths of the cupboards. I put the kettle on to boil. And I reached for my coffee bin… which felt a little light… and then, to my horror, I realized… Tay had taken all the coffee with him to Mexico. My coffee was in MEXICO! “SHIT!” My mind raced. Now what??! The water simmered away in its kettle.
The headache began to throb its way through my frontal lobe as I rummaged through my teas. Black tea would have to do the trick. I poured twice the recommended amount in my french press as the tea kettle began to scream… could hardly wait for my replacement to properly brew… poured myself a rather large cup with shaking hands and tried to quickly gulp it down, severely burning my tongue and the roof of my mouth in the process. It was a poor substitute.
I waited for the headache to subside, distracting myself with last night’s dishes. The men with the mattress finally arrived, swapped out the old one with a nice, big, fluffy, fancy looking new one. I downed the rest of my tea, grabbed my purse, hopped in the car, and chased them out the driveway. Passed the Starbucks (ick. almost considered it, but I wasn’t THAT desperate), and raced to a nearby cafe, slammed my money down on the counter, and demanded a double americano, iced. PLEASE!!! The quickest way to get a little more caffeine in my system, sans needle.
Now I sit, with a melting cup of ice in front of me, serene and content.
No, no. It’s not a problem. It’s just an addiction. I’m totally under control. Really, I am.