I love coffee. Not in the way that you can love a person though. I love it like I love oxygen or sun light. I wouldn’t make it through the day without it. Normally it just takes a little bit to get me normal. My morning cup of coffee is a four cup pot. Most people don’t get to see my first cup is down. It’s just better for everyone that way. Most of the time my morning cup will get me through a whole day. If I have a full night sleep.
I only slept about four or five hours last night, non consecutively. Fitful sleep is the worst. So all day I’ve been trying to force myself awake with cup after cup of coffee. I should know by now that it never works. It just makes me jittery and nervous. My brain just misfiring every step of the way. Daydreaming of my comforter and pillows, the irony being that once I get to them I won’t be able to sleep. Being exhausted in bed and unable to sleep has to be the greatest injustice in caffeine addiction.
I love coffee and coffee loves me its like every cup is hugging my heart today. I’m a strange sort of coffee snob. At home I keep a few pounds of micro roasted coffee. I order it from Portland where my buddy Dylan roasts it. I refuse to drink Starbucks unless its a caffeine emergency, but I’ll stop at Dunkin Donuts several times a week even though its basically dirty water. I’m pretty sure I had my first cup of coffee at the Highland Diner in Ossining. I was probably fourteen at the time. It was fifty cents(maybe 75 at this point) for a bottomless cup of coffee, and you could smoke!(I must sound like I’m a thousand years old) I used so much cream and sugar that I was basically drinking cake.
It’s a little strange how many events in my life seem to revolve around coffee. Between working in coffee shops and meeting two of my best friends there. Waiting tables overnight in Boston where it was essential. Having my buddy Adam climb up our balcony like Sam from Clarissa Explains it All with a tray of iced coffee from Dunkin Donuts in JP. Going espresso shot for shot with Rob, coffee cuppings with Dylan, chain smoking in diners with a sketchbook and headphones on, et cetera et cetera.
I quit smoking five years ago, I barely drink beer or whiskey anymore, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to drink coffee until I die.
Editors note: this was written in the throes of a coffee binge. Please excuse the rambling and inevitable grammatical errors.