I love you. You are my very best friend. I wish I could shrink a bite-sized espresso machine to carry around in my shallow girl-jean pockets for emergencies. My dependence upon you leaves me desperate, wandering in the snow looking for a cup of coffee unblemished by Starbucks brand bitterness, disregarding my cashless wallet and frost-bitten nose (my nose gets colder than my feet sometimes, but not when I have a hot cup of caffeinated something to my lips).
I love you most in my mother's milk tea, spiced with saffron and cardamom, paired with digestive biscuits from Devon Ave, and always hot enough to burn the roof of my mouth. At times, I dip the biscuits a little too long in the cup and the rest of biscuit resurfaces, only half intact, and the other half disintegrated at the bottom.
At home, almost twice a day, you are an excuse to sit back and relax, and chat with mom and Avva. It makes me think of tea in India (super sweet, extra hot, made with milk from bags), long to visit the coffee plantation on which my mother spent her childhood, and of my dream to buy a coffee plantation, become a farmer and live on a farm in my retired years.
Caffeine, you are the reason I didn't drop out my sophomore year of college. I couldn't have made it through all those all-nighters without you. Even though I didn't know how to work my sister's coffee machine and poured water over the grounds, you still managed to pull through for me.
Caffeine, you are also my most treacherous enemy. Why oh why did I make coffee at work for 4 days only to discover after 4 horrible nights and days of what I thought was a sinus headache was the result of caffeine deprivation?? I should have noticed the "decaf" label.
Don't ever leave me.
Love,
Me
Tea in Kerala.
2 comments:
I did the same thing at work. I had a headache for a whole week, making me think I was going crazy and nearly making Evan worried enough to take me to a neurologist. Nope, some douche was just putting decaf into the wrong carafe.
DOUCHE.
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