Wagon? What Wagon?
Recently, I discussed my desire to kick the caffeine habit. I waxed on for way too many words about how I was going to leave the chaos of caffeine behind and start this new, clean life of staying awake and alert without the assistance of my favorite coffee or tea indulgence. And I sighed this big, self-righteous sigh and picked up a box of decaffeinated tea from Whole Foods, convinced I was going to heal thyself.
What a frickin' liar I am.
Instead of sticking to my well-intentioned guns, I'm so far off the "no caffeine" wagon that it's ridiculous. The wagon is waaaay ahead of me, leaving me here in the dust, coffee cup clutched in my little bride-to-be hands. Over the past two weeks, I've reinstituted coffee into my daily diet. Granted, I'm sticking to the meal plan I had established (minus a few moments of weakness, which included a piece of chocolate Guinness Cake on St. Patrick's Day, a few beers, and three Almond Hershey Kisses from my co-worker's stash), but I couldn't hold steady on my mission for no caffeine.
I can't even say that I'm trying. Today alone has been a jittery nightmare: a small coffee right when I got to work, a large Earl Gray tea from the diner downstairs at mid-morning, and a large iced coffee after lunch. Yesterday was only slightly more acceptable. I love the ritual of coffee, chatting with co-workers around the machine in the morning. I love the social jaunts down to the diner with my office mates, talking with the waitress downstairs as we get our respective caffeine fixes. I love my stupid coffee mug and the cheap mug warmer that I bought at the dollar store.
But I am addicted not only to the routine - no, that would be too easy. I'm also hooked on the actual coffee buzz. I love that feeling of controlled pandemonium that a good cup of coffee brings to my busy work day. It's totally sadistic, but I like the edge of panic a java boost gives to my to do list. With the list of crap to do being ridiculously overwhelming lately (thank you, wedding and worky bits), I feel like I
want need the helping hand of coffee.
I know my weaknesses: Chris. My foolish cat critters. The need to laugh at fart jokes. Anything related to writing. And coffee. Hey, I'm woman enough to admit my weaknesses. I can't stop drinking this crap, not at this tender stage in the game. It's part of the fabric, and I'm all woven up in it.
I know I'm not the only one who is addicted. But I know people have cut caffeine out of their lives completely, too. After the wedding, I'll give it another go. For now, I need a refill.