How coffee intruded my life.

Growing up I was exposed to coffee in various ways. It was a treat to have a small cup of coffee in the morning with my aunt. That was if I woke up early enough to walk to her house on Sunday morning. I think this was her way of not having to tell me no, but at the same time knowing I probably would not wake up in time. I am NOT a morning person.

At my grandparents’ house it was a morning ritual to get up early, sit on the porch, and sip on some joe. The same rules applied here as they did at my aunts. Since I’d rather be sleeping, you could say coffee was not on my main agenda. I saw it as a treat because I would go the whole nine yards (sugar, milk, creamer, and a dash of coffee) but for the most part useless. At that time, I was somewhere between 7-10 years old.

Let us fast forward about 12 years.

I am now in college and 8 a.m. morning classes are the definition of a nightmare. Every now and then… actually more like very rarely, I would wake up early enough to get to class AND grab a coffee. The coffee I would grab before class (or possibly during the first 15 min of class because I was already late) wasn’t because I knew it would make me feel like I could run a marathon and write a book at the same time, because I had no idea it could potentially have that effect. It was merely because I thought that was what normal college kids did. Clearly I had no idea what this coffee rave was all about.

Then I moved in with my boyfriend, who drinks coffee religiously, and at that time I still didn’t fully understand. I loved to wake up to the smell of it brewing and as long as it was in the house he was a happy camper! All was well in PLEASANT-tonville. Getting up early still didn’t happen but life was good.

Then came a little bit more of a twist for me. I got my first big girl job working 8-5. All I can think of when I tell people I work 8-5 is Dolly Parton singing 9 to 5 and wishing that was my case. Because who doesn’t want an extra hour to sleep in? A dreamer can dream right? Well I mean I could literally dream more if I was asleep, but not how the cookie crumbles in reality. So moving on. Again…

The first few weeks were no problem! I was excited to finally have a job and potentially not have to look at the price tags on everything before I bought it. I refused to drink coffee because I thought that was for the weak… I want to say it was about the 3rd or 4th week when I really started to feel it. I was really dragging butt and trying to stay awake.

I surrendered. Coffee had become a ritual every morning and it was as if I had a magic cape on that made me a super productive individual.

I. Could. Do. Anything.

Or so I thought. I’ve been drinking coffee for a few months now and that surge of energy I used to get from it has depleted and seems to be less and less each time. Often, this leads to me drinking more and more of it. I’m back to being sleepy in the mornings but not being able to sleep at night because of the amount of caffeine that my body took in during the day. It’s a vicious cycle that takes place these days.

And that my friends, is how coffee intruded my life.

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