For seven years I swore off coffee. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the taste anymore or that I was trying to better my health, God forbid! No, I deveoped an adverse reaction to the stuff. Whereas I used to chug about a pot a day, suddenly I was left paralyzed with the jitters after just one cup. For some reason my long-time friend, caffeine, had turned against me. When I drank coffee during this period, I’d go through vicious mood swings, becoming silverback gorilla angry at one point and then crying like a Sally Fields winning an oscar at another. It was bizarre, and it scared many coworkers.
Recently, however, I purchased a non-fat latte at Starbucks. I was worried about what it would do to me. Would I undergo the same tranformation from moderately stable everyman into menopausal werewolf? I drank the brew and set the controls to cruise. What happened next was glorious. Nothing. Nothing but that euphoric feeling coffee once gave me, that feeling of flying through a perfectly blue sky speckled with cloud fluff…with a fucking jet engine strapped to your back. I was on a rollercoast baby and ain’t nothing going to stop the train from running off its track. I’m on fire! I’m the devil! I’m God! I’m Jesus-fucking-Christ! I can lift a mountain and destroy villages! I can bring the dead back to life and walk on fucking hot lava! Coffee! Welcome back! Welcome back my friend!
So yeah, I like coffee again. And now I drink it everyday. Another addiction badge to add to my sash. Huzzah!