My normal morning goes something like this: Get dressed, walk Sophia, eat, walk to work, get settled, have a cup of coffee.
That first cup has long been my welcome to the morning. Without it, I feel in a bit of a haze, but once he enters my day, things start taking shape.
And it’s interesting. My relationship with coffee is much like bad relationships past. He’s there when I need him, he gets me going, but indulge a bit too much and its all crazy from there. And this is when I started implementing the one cup rule.
When I started my current job, if nothing else, I was hugely excited for the free Keurig coffee! Oh yeah, baby, 12 flavors stocked daily, all you can consume, WHAT CAN GO WRONG?! Yeah, we all know where that one went (hence the one cup rule.)
But now, as the weather becomes frigid, my numb hands unable to move when I get to my desk, all that can save me is that hot, bitter beauty. And then once she’s gone, what happens? I give in. I give into the trap and drink more. And note, my one cup rule is broken.
What makes matters worse is the loosening of the coffee standards I once possessed. I suppose they come and go, but having access to wonderful coffee flavors daily should, in fact, force me to become pickier, right? Hmm, if I catch myself drinking “Maine Blueberry Coffee” again I swear…
But really, the cheap crappy blends? Sure, why not. The industrious catering pot having who-knows-what inside of it, sure, sounds easy.
And this is the source of my problem. A cup of crappy coffee has to be followed by a proper cup, just to balance the world out. And I mean, seriously, why does decaf even exist? If I am going to drink coffee, I’ll deal with the extra twitches.
Needless to say, I’ve had more than one cup. And also needless to say, I need to go back to that daily rule, and work on those standards.