Oh, Coffee: Thee Muncheth Cock
An ode to the lack of coffee: For a long while I have been convinced that coffee was doing me harm. I have drank coffee off and on from when I was in my teens until 11 years ago when it became a daily ritual. Concurrent with that ritual, I have had lots of jitters and anxiety. LOTS. About three years ago I tried to stop coffee. I went cold turkey. At the end of the first day, I had a headache. On the second day, my heart was pounding and I was dizzy. I was in the throes of chemical addiction withdrawal, period. By the fourth day, I was sure I was dying and I rolled the dice that I wasn't dying. I got a coffee and in 30 minutes I was feeling a whole lot better. I put the yoke back on and continued my coffee drinking ways. I knew that coffee was toxic stuff: it tasted good, but it was bad. It wasn't a crutch to let me work long hours-- in fact, I used to sleep less when I had less coffee. About a month ago, I started the process again. I went from a pot of coffee a day on some da...