Monday, March 26, 2012

I'm Pretty Sure the World Is About to End

I can't use bad puns today - I gave them up for 1/40th of Lent. So this is going to be a hard post to write. Because there are so many coffee-related puns, and I have a coffee-related issue to discuss.

Coffee with a side of coffee beans? Sure, why not?
Seriously, my brain keeps wanting to write sentences involving "brewing" and "grounds" and "bean/been." Horrible, wonderful puns about coffee that I promised not to do today on account of Jesus. My brain does not support my religion. Ha ha, whose brain does? But I digress.

Here's the thing: I didn't drink any coffee yesterday. And I didn't drink any coffee this morning. I could have had coffee either day. I had time to make it, and I had stuff to make it with. And on both mornings, a few cups of strong black coffee probably would have done me a world of good.

I'm just saying.
But I didn't. Because...because...

...this is so hard to say...

I didn't feel like drinking coffee.

I just didn't want any coffee yesterday. Or today. You have to understand, on Sunday morning I always - always - brew a pot of coffee and drink it while reading the newspaper, checking Facebook, avoiding housework, etc. Even in the middle of a Texas summer, when it's already 80 degrees at freaking sunrise on its way to being hot enough to roast a chicken in the evil, burning sun, I always drink coffee on Sunday mornings. Because I love the routine, and I love coffee.

Yesterday I just didn't feel like it. I thought about it, I looked at the coffee maker, and a little voice in my head said, "Nah." Which shocked me, frankly, and I almost went ahead and made coffee anyway, just to scald the little bugger for speaking such heresy. But the plain fact was, I didn't want any.

I know, right?
So...OK. Not the end of the world. I skipped the coffee, and life went on. Went grocery shopping, saw The Hunger Games with the family, did some laundry. While I was grocery shopping, I actually bought a bag of coffee for the office, because I'm almost out. Of course, the first thing I do when I get to work in the morning is make a pot of coffee. I mean, respond to important e-mails and check my calendar. Then make coffee.

Good one, huh?
But this morning, even with a shiny new bag of Community Club Dark Roast in hand, I...just didn't feel like making it. Didn't have the craving. Couldn't muster up the enthusiasm. Didn't want coffee.

That's a symptom of serious crazy, isn't it?
Two days in a row without coffee. Without wanting coffee. Am I ill? Do I have something terribly wrong with me?

Oh God, it's menopause, isn't it?

I'm too young to fry.
Maybe tomorrow will be different. Maybe I'll wake up thinking about wonderful, hot, tasty java. And the craving will hit when I get to work, and I'll brew up a pot of mm-mm-good coffee.

Or maybe...maybe there's a coffee switch in my head, and something has flipped it.

I like the idea of my brain consisting of a vast bank
of toggle switches. Nearly all of them off.

Am I done drinking coffee? Do I have years and decades of being a non-coffeehead ahead of me? Or is my body trying to tell me I have a monster tumor that feeds on caffeine and I'd better quit feeding it?

Gimme gimme gimme.
Tune in tomorrow to find out if this is just a temporary thing or something far more sinister. Tomorrow I can use all my coffee puns, too. So that'll be excruciating  fun. And maybe I'll discover my body has decided to dump my cravings for cookie dough or pizza while it's at it, and you can all watch my head explode.

I'm going to go have a cup of stinkin' water now.

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