16 April 2012

without coffee

My coffee machine looked at me forlornly this morning.

You ask: With what eyes?

Oh, I know it has no eyes, but it has a little green light that comes on when it's brewing, and today, the first day in ages and ages I haven't turned it on, my coffee machine looked at me with a cold, calculated, unlit-up glare.

That's a change from forlornly, and I should stop before my coffee machine takes on a murderous glare and starts thinking about brewing me hemlock.

Why such discussion of the feelings of a machine? Have I stepped into some sort of dystopia where the machines are plotting to take us over—by manipulating our feelings?

Thank heavens, no.

But two of my co-workers challenged me to give up coffee for the day—for just one day—because they think I'm addicted. When you write it all down, it may look like I'm addicted.

Kamiah's Daily Coffee Consumption: All Written Down
  • 2-3 cups in the early morning: I drink this while sitting with Little Pug in the reading/journalling/writing/chewing on a rawhide bone {Little Pug's activity} nook.
  • 2ish cups in the office when I first get in
  • double shot of espresso around 10:30 or 11:00: Especially since I got my Anne of Green Gables espresso cup, I'm all for this tradition. The key to work is to break up your day with Anne of Green Gables and coffee.
  • double shot of espresso around 2:30 or 3:00: A recent addition, but please see previous note about getting through the work day.
And that's it, I promise.

Except for when I meet people for coffee in the evenings or have them over for dinner. And except for when it's raining and blustery out and a pot of coffee sounds just about right. Or when there's just a hint of chill in the air and I want to sit out on the balcony.

So it's a lot of coffee, but I've always said this: I'm not addicted to the coffee; I'm addicted to the ritual. Even my sidenote up there about drinking out of an Anne of Green Gables cup should tell you that I am a creature of habit, and I love nothing so much as the feel of a mug in my hands as I anticipate the first sip.

But not being one to back down from a challenge, I agreed to go coffee-less for today, and that is why my coffee machine looked at me forlornly this morning: because I was ignoring it.

Here it is, many, many hours later, and I don't have a headache, I'm not cranky, and I don't have the shakes.

But I do miss my rituals. In a vain effort to fill my ritual-need, I drank water out of my Anne espresso cup.

It was not the same. A shot of water isn't nearly as fulfilling as a shot of espresso.

Lessons from the Coffee-less Day
  1. I am not addicted to coffee. I just happen to like drinking it a lot.
  2. My perkiness comes naturally to me and isn't a caffeine-induced thing
  3. I love my Anne of Green Gables espresso cup, perhaps a little too much; I think I may be addicted to it.
  4. When I don't have coffee, I start to think that machines are out to get me.


  1. My espresso machine is my friend.

    They say the first sign of addiction is drinking alone. I noticed: 1: pug 2: co-workers 3: friends at night 4: being alone in the rain is ok.

    I may never be without my coffee cup but I'm jealous of your double espressos in the afternoon.

  2. Mark, you clearly need to get an espresso machine at the office. Then you too can have double espressos in the afternoon. It's a lovely thing.

  3. I had no idea you drank so much. I am impressed. Jay drinks coffee like crazy and it makes our house smell like a church basement on Sunday morning. Your house never smells like a church basement on Sunday morning. It just smells nice.

  4. Oh, Jessie, I'm so glad you think my apartment smells nice. Perhaps you could add to your church basement smell by always having a casserole of some sort going, too -- in addition to the coffee.

    Just an idea.



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