O lovely coffee, hot mug of life-affirming caffeine. Elixir of the morning, jump-starter of the workday, feeder of my brain, how can I communicate my love?
Well, I suppose there’s the $2.10 I spend every morning at Starbucks (not including the nickel I feel obligated to tip the person for walking my coffee the two feet between the machine that made it and my waiting hand). After all, what says love more than a daily habit? I know, I know – huffing glue* would be cheaper; but I suspect it would slow my ability to type like a typhoon. That and it’s just so undignified. Honestly, no one lines up at 7:20 in the morning for glue, do they?
Speaking of which, if I start tucking a bit of coffee grounds between my cheek and gums, if I start lying about how much coffee I’ve had in a day or eventually do so much coffee that I am just too alert for work and other social obligations, do you think I stand a chance of meeting Dr. Drew Pinsky? Don’t tell Willie, but since I’ve started watching Celebrity Rehab I may have developed a “thing” for Dr. Drew. What a man.
But enough about me and my love of Dr. Drew! Let’s talk about me and my love of coffee.
What’s it look like, this love of mine? Step forward, friends, and peer into my Coffee Cup of Happiness.
O artificial mood lifter, creator of additional time in my day, quickener of my pulse, coffee smells like productivity. Faster than a cat convinced it’s Treat Time, I inhale the aroma and my spirits rise. I have the energy, nay, the desire, to answer the e-mails in my Inbox in their varying degrees of clueless-ness, to file things that will never be looked at again.
Coffee is my incentive, my love, my low-key addiction. It may not get me an audience with Dr. Drew, but it will get me through the morning.
* No one really thinks that huffing glue is a good idea. I just like the word “huffing”.
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