* Written while downing a cup at 10:29 p.m. Welp *
I have a confession to make. I drink way more coffee than what should be humanly allowed. I’m not the cute Starbucks Soy-Vanilla-Bean-Chai-Blah-Blah-Blah sipping with a straw type drinker, though I so wish I was. I take my coffee wrong and strong. No seriously, with each overflowing cup of caffeinated pleasure I sink deeper and deeper into the coffee drinkers’ remorse. Oh, you’ve never heard of such a diagnosis? Well, let me be the first to tell you it’s real and it’s bad. There’s the unshakeable self-consciousness that comes along with knowing you’ll never have those Crest commercial pearly whites. Sigh. That’s why MAC’s Ruby Woo lipstick was invented in the first place. With its vision-tricking properties, the dryer-than-concrete blue-based red is a first date essential. Besides, the man for me must love me for my than my teeth, right? Welp.
Then comes the jitters. The jitters that seem to instantly take hold of your nervous system, making you a multitasking mess. And then once the high comes down you don’t even know how to productively function without your hit. At the start of every week you promise in vain that this will be the week to make a change. Along with waking up an hour earlier to work out, this is the week you commit to breaking free from the charmingly seductive roasted and liquefied beans’ hold. “I will not be a slave to coffee!” you say while avoiding eye contact with every coffee peddler in close proximity. So here’s the deal, Mr. Right: I will probably never get over my coffee addiction. Not until the day they sell it in small digestible tablets, and this is something I’ve come to terms with. Coffee, I love you.