It's been about 11 months since I gave up coffee. You see, I quit smoking on my wedding day and in order to really try to make the quitting stick I knew that my morning cup of coffee would have to go. Since I was 18 years old I had been starting my day with a cup of caffeine and a stick of nicotine. They go together like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, like Strawberries and fresh cream, like sea sand and sunshine...
Okay, you get the point.
Anyway, two weeks (and several withdrawal headaches) after I quit the cancer sticks and my morning cup of jet fuel, the strangest thing happened – I started to really (like really, really) enjoy a cup of herbal tea and found that I soon swapped my standard issue two teaspoons of sugar for a drop of honey. I was surprised at how easily I'd kicked coffee to the curb and, dare I say it, I was kinda proud of myself.
The thing I didn't realise was that it's pretty easy to forego caffeine when your life as an artist lets you wake up at 8am everyday and eat breakfast in a bubble bath. I was living a lie. I was like an alcoholic that had stopped drinking but was living in a mineral water glazed bubble in a land where no one had ever heard of wine – I hadn't, metaphorically speaking, been into a pub and tested my resolve.
Until today.
I had to be up and out of bed by (gasp!) 6:45am so that I could get showered and fed and out of my front door in time to make a friend's 12-week ultrasound scan by 8:15am. As I stood in the shower, shivering from the early morning chill in the air (which I haven't felt it in months – due to my bath time usually being at 9-ish) all I wanted to do was climb back into bed and hit the snooze button LOTS.
As I poured the hot water into my adorable little chinese tea pot and prepared my daily dose of green tea I was oddly drawn to the cannister labelled coffee on my kitchen counter. It's part of one of those 'tea, coffee, sugar' sets you buy at home stores and has been empty for as long as I've been a married woman.
I realised that I hadn't craved coffee in forever and suddenly I wanted it. I wanted it real bad. I wanted it dark and strong and with fluffy foamed milk and perhaps a shot of hazelnut...
But I digress...
The point of this seemingly pointless tale is that I managed to resist. I managed to get to the gallery a little earlier than expected and strolled into Mugg & Bean for a takeaway 'latte' – a Rooibos (herbal for you non-Africans) latte. No caffeine. But all the foamy goodness.
I had succeeded, I had been tested and I had won...
Then I sat down to type this, got about half way through my tale and then: "Here's a cup of coffee, you look like you need it," said my colleague, setting a great big piping hot mug of caffeine-y goodness on my desk. As the rich, aromatic steam made it way up my nostrils I caved... took a tentative sip and had to ask myself...
"Why did I give up coffee, again?"
Okay, you get the point.
Anyway, two weeks (and several withdrawal headaches) after I quit the cancer sticks and my morning cup of jet fuel, the strangest thing happened – I started to really (like really, really) enjoy a cup of herbal tea and found that I soon swapped my standard issue two teaspoons of sugar for a drop of honey. I was surprised at how easily I'd kicked coffee to the curb and, dare I say it, I was kinda proud of myself.
The thing I didn't realise was that it's pretty easy to forego caffeine when your life as an artist lets you wake up at 8am everyday and eat breakfast in a bubble bath. I was living a lie. I was like an alcoholic that had stopped drinking but was living in a mineral water glazed bubble in a land where no one had ever heard of wine – I hadn't, metaphorically speaking, been into a pub and tested my resolve.
Until today.
I had to be up and out of bed by (gasp!) 6:45am so that I could get showered and fed and out of my front door in time to make a friend's 12-week ultrasound scan by 8:15am. As I stood in the shower, shivering from the early morning chill in the air (which I haven't felt it in months – due to my bath time usually being at 9-ish) all I wanted to do was climb back into bed and hit the snooze button LOTS.
As I poured the hot water into my adorable little chinese tea pot and prepared my daily dose of green tea I was oddly drawn to the cannister labelled coffee on my kitchen counter. It's part of one of those 'tea, coffee, sugar' sets you buy at home stores and has been empty for as long as I've been a married woman.
I realised that I hadn't craved coffee in forever and suddenly I wanted it. I wanted it real bad. I wanted it dark and strong and with fluffy foamed milk and perhaps a shot of hazelnut...
But I digress...
The point of this seemingly pointless tale is that I managed to resist. I managed to get to the gallery a little earlier than expected and strolled into Mugg & Bean for a takeaway 'latte' – a Rooibos (herbal for you non-Africans) latte. No caffeine. But all the foamy goodness.
I had succeeded, I had been tested and I had won...
Then I sat down to type this, got about half way through my tale and then: "Here's a cup of coffee, you look like you need it," said my colleague, setting a great big piping hot mug of caffeine-y goodness on my desk. As the rich, aromatic steam made it way up my nostrils I caved... took a tentative sip and had to ask myself...
"Why did I give up coffee, again?"
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Now, if you will excuse me, I need another cuppa.