Logical addictions.

Ahh... Coffee. A new perspective on life. Dragging horribly mid-shift, whether substitute teaching or at my personal caffeine service station, Starbucks, coffee does do the job. So I’m admitting here: I am a hopeless addict. Or I am getting old. Or both.

When I was a little younger, and much more naive, I scoffed at grown-ups’ inability to abstain from coffee (and for those that cannot stomach coffee, Diet Coke will do). Well, I have not taken to drinking countless cups of weak drip coffee throughout the day no matter its source, as is my parents custom. Somehow my uncompromised taste for quality trumps the need for caffeine. This means I stay away from soda drinks too. Instead, my poison comes in the form of watered-down espresso–otherwise known as “café americano–laced with cream. Occasionally I’ll have the iced version. At home, I make the occasional french press; at work, I’ll grab the readily available drip-brewed cup. It makes a difference during the day.

Can I hear an “Amen!”?