But I never meant for this space to be about coffee, or my love for it. Truth be told, I was having a cup of coffee and was feeling warm and cozy when I thought of starting this blog, thus the references to the drink.
To be honest, I can't tell Arabica apart from Robusta. Heck I probably didn't spell those right because I see red, squiggly lines there. That coffee is harvested from mid-sized trees that look like shrubs is all I know. They have white flowers and green berries that turn red when ripe. We had those behind our house in the 70s.
Coffee and I actually have a strange relationship. I like how it clears my mind, how it perks me up, and makes me feel in control. I don't really care if it's a 3-in-1 Kopiko or some Latin American recipe from a pretentious coffeeshop. Just let have my cup and we're cool.
On the other hand, not having my cup is, well, disastrous. I get migraines. My body--particularly that tiny, albeit critical part called the tongue--fails to connect with my mind. If my mind is awake at all. Sometimes I feel like I'm looking out from a stranger's body. I'm in it but I don't control it. It's like my thoughts jump around at random, not following any logical flow. I fee like a surgeon staring at a patient's open chest, wondering what to do next, or why I cracked open that chest in the first place.
Guess you can call me a caffeine junkie. I won't argue with you there. I won't go through the whole denial stage. I'm waiting for the anger to set in but I don't feel anywhere near it at the moment. Perhaps if you skip the first stage the second stage takes a while. Oh well, I'll go get my my dose of UCC iced coffee in the meantime.
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