You know those mornings when you wake up and, suddenly, you are a hardcore coffee addict? I mean, I always love my coffee ~ and not only in the mornings, either ~ but I’m talking about the days when you wake up like a junkie. Is that just me? Because it’s not every day ~ in fact, it’s rather rare, and I get through most mornings entirely without coffee. Some days, I get kids to school, stop at the grocery store ~ my other addiction, apparently, since I am there at least once every single day of my life ~ drive home and brew a pot before I have my first cup. There are even days when I don’t have coffee at all. I know. Life without coffee? I’m a mad woman.
Anyway, it’s not that I am actually so addicted to the caffeine in my coffee that I can’t function without it. Most of the time, I do just fine, with or without; and a cup a day is usually sufficient. I’m not even one of those “don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee” people. Most of the time.
Why, then, are there days when I wake up jonesing? Jittery, single-minded ~ “COFFEE. Where is the coffee?” ~ I stumble to the kitchen to scare up a cup. And, ‘though I truly enjoy an excellent cup of coffee, I will take anything that even remotely qualifies on these occasions. I’ll drink instant coffee. Instant coffee isn’t good. I’m not even convinced it’s coffee. People should be selling this crap from under their trenchcoats ~ “Pssst. Psssst!! Hey, you, lady, over there! Want some…coffee? It’s the good stuff. Just add water!” And, really, adding water is just a formality. I think, if I didn’t have a shred of self-respect, I might just snort it. Well, you know…provided there weren’t other people around…and my nose wasn’t stuffed up, which it always is…But, IN THEORY, I would.
So, this particular morning, I stumble upstairs at the lakehouse ~ you know, because, thanks to our friends, we are briefly living the lakehouse life again ~ grumble good morning at someone, pour my crappy instant coffee powder into a large mug, and just add water. Hot water. I had to wait for it to boil, but, in the meantime, I just stood there, inhaling powdered coffee fumes. So, that helped. After reconstituting what I can only dream must have been coffee in its past life ~ the package boasts that it contains “instant and microground coffee,” so there must be actual coffee in there ~ I add a little (non-dairy) creamer, stir, and, finally, get my first taste. It’s crappy, as I suspected, but, oh, so good. God only knows why. It’s too hot, too strong, and not delicious, but I drink the whole steaming, awful mess as if it were the nectar of the gods. What is wrong with me?
For the record, I have not been on a bender. I’m not coming off a weeklong drunk ~ or even an evening-long drunk, for that matter. I slept magnificently last night.
Ah. Maybe that’s it. I haven’t slept well since…well, geez….when was that? I was gonna say “1984” (the year, not the book ~ I just put it in quotes because I was gonna say it), but it occurs to me that I have been sedated. So, when was the last time I was sedated? I think it was when I had my broken nose repaired. Come to think of it, I probably didn’t sleep well ~ and no one should ever tell me what happened during that particular sleep, by the way. So, I’m gonna go with 1984. It’s a rough estimate. Probably there have been other good sleeps, but I don’t remember them, because I was sleeping.
Whatever the reason, I awoke in desperate need of coffee this morning. And desperate times call for desperate measures. So, here I sit, drinking my second cup of gross instant coffee. I oughta be ashamed. I think, maybe, I am. In fact, I am reasonably certain someone has now brewed actual coffee, but I am still drinking this garbage. I must be punishing myself.