Coffee Haiku
Coffee, for you I
get out of my bed
and *sigh* go to work.
True story: I didn't drink coffee until after college. I made it through four years of undergrad without it. Of course, back then I had a two-liter a day soda habit, so maybe I didn't need it so much. But now that I no longer drink soda every five minutes, coffee and I are best friends. Even before I drank it I liked the scent of coffee beans. Earthy, dark, rich, with a little kick.
Now I have a medium coffee every single morning. The rare mornings that I don't develop into headachey, tired afternoons. Addicted? You bet. But when confronted with this evidence I tend to shrug. I think a coffee addiction is okay. And mine is mild. I'm not going to die like Balzac. Given all the writerly vices I could adopt: alcoholism, tobacco addiction, deep sea fishing, I think drinking coffee is pretty tame and requires less commitment than, say, a heroin habit.
I'm still anti-Starbucks (can't drink their stuff and can't write in coffee shops) though I do patronize other chains. Lately I can't walk into Dunkin Donuts because I might be confronted by a six-foot tall poster of Rachel Ray, and nothing provokes me quite like that woman. She's ubiquitous. She showed up on a box of Triscuits recently. Is no place on this world sacred from her? Not to mention no one in many family forgives her for that stupid $40 a day show she did on Food Network in which she routinely undertipped the wait staff. Undertipping is considered a sin where I come from.
Ahem. So yes: coffee good. Coffee excellent. Rachel Ray: bad. I think I've made my point here. And that point is: goddamn! Did they put decaf in my cup this morning?! Neurons not making the leap! Need help or nap.
Coffee, why hast thou
forsaken me in my hour
of desperate need?
Feel free to share your coffee haikus, or tips on how to battle sleepiness, with me.