I love coffee. In fact, I obsess over it. I try to grind my own beans as frequently as possible. I also weigh my coffee (in grams, so it's more accurate), and only make 2-4 cups at a time so that I don't waste it. It's the one thing I splurge on (there are two pounds of Starbucks Casi Cielo in the freezer downstairs). I enhance my home-coffeeshop experience by keeping cream and flavored syrups available (this encourages me to stay away from Starbucks). On Facebook this morning, my status claimed that I was enjoying my first cup of coffee in days. The truth is, two and a half hours later... I'm still enjoying that same cup. My sister was aghast.
I have filled out applications for Starbucks on multiple occasions. My favorite part of the application asks for your feelings/opinions etc. about coffee. My least favorite part of the application is the scant two lines that follow that question. Even writing in tiny letters so I could write four lines, I did not have enough room.
I have this thing about drinking my coffee. It doesn't have to be fresh or piping hot. It can even be the remnants of yesterday's pot that I never finished. But when I drink it, I have to be alone and settled so that I can really enjoy it. That means my beautiful newborn son needs to be taking a nap, and my husband needs to be at work. The television is off. I might be reading, journaling, or in this moment, blogging. It's a very ME-centric moment. Only God knows how long it will last.
Coffee is not my "get up and get going in the morning" drink. That would be my hot shower. I don't need the caffeine to get me through the day. What I need is that golden moment of sanity. For me, coffee evokes memories of bookstores and meeting with friends. It reminds me of quiet moments I had before I became so busy. When I drink coffee, I have a chance to take a deep breath and re-center.