a pause to long for coffee.

I'm not a terribly disciplined person.

I spend money impulsively, I oversleep, I run late in the morning (or the afternoon, or the evening - punctuality: very elusive) , I let the dishes pile up, I never obey the speed limit, I order dessert...

Occassionally, I surprise myself. Recently I decided to stop drinking coffee and I've been STARTLINGLY disciplined about it. In all fairness, I wasn't much of a coffee drinker in the first place until landing my current job - I opted to work the earlier shift and get in at about 6:30 most mornings. Something about rolling into work before most people's kitchen lights come on made coffee a necessity.

It broadsided me. It happened quickly - I moved straight from "non-coffee-drinker" to "all-day-coffee-drinker." I never had a cup of THICK, STRONG, constuction-man-style coffee out of arm's reach. Sure, I added girlie, flavoured creamers to dress it up (love the Cinnamon Hazelnut and the Chocolate Raspberry and the Vanilla Dulce and - around the holidays - the Gingerbread Spice), but in no time at all I had become that employee.

The employee that stumbles into the office and makes a beeline for the coffee before even turning on the computer.

The employee that complains when it's too weak.

The employee that gets irate and waves the empty pot around when someone drinks the last and doesn't brew a fresh pot.

The employee that recognizes when we change brands..."Hey, this tastes funny....where's the normal stuff?"

I didn't like being that employee.

Furthermore, I didn't like the fact that coffee in general wreaked bloody havoc with my complexion, with my stomach, with my sleeping habits...

So: I gave it up.

Takes quite a bit of discipline.

Difficult to walk into the office, past the coffee pot and ignore the smell, particularly when the pot never runs dry around the office and it's always a FRESH coffee smell (a smell I actually found horribly disgusting until becoming a coffee drinker at which point all sensory bets are off...I felt a little betrayed by myself, frankly. I never liked that icky coffee stench, why did I get excited about it now???? I hated the taste of that stuff, why am I a fiend?????)

It went very well. For months now I've opted for a cup of tea in the morning. No, it's not as fun as dumping a good quarter cup of Coffee Mate Irish Cream into a mug, but I'm learning that a good part of the "must have cuppa joe" reflex centered around the ritual of starting my day by holding something warm and cozy...tea is plenty warm and comes in at least 967,000 fun and exciting flavors.

I've been disciplined. I've hardly wavered. I've been impressed with myself. I've even told people, "You know, it hasn't been hard to quit!" in a cocky moment.

And then this morning came around...

It's killing me!

For no particular reason!

I can hardly stand it!

Need coffee! Want coffee! And while you're at it, bring me a cinnamon roll!!!

(see, even my punctuation suggests desperation)

So far, I'm hangin in there...it's easier since I'm clean out of the prissy creamer to gussy up the coffee, so to drink a cup would mean a run to the store at which point the impulse becomes ridiculous and I may as well just wait it out.

Guess it's time to find out what I'm really made of.