Kristina Wright :: Musings of an Insomniac Writer

Give. Me. Coffee. NOW.

Coffee. I want coffee. Why is that all I can think about (well, relatively speaking, of course)? Why is coffee more addictive than soda, despite the similar (I think) caffeine content? Why, when I never drank coffee before last year (because I had the best damn coffee in London and I'm still trying to duplicate that amazing experience), do I suddenly have the urge to leave work in search of the nearest coffee house?

Honestly, I think it's mostly the ritual. It's comforting and exciting all at once. Going for coffee. It just has a ring to it. Not going for a Pepsi. Or going for tea. Or even going for a drink (though that has a different ring to it altogether). Going for coffee can be a solitary experience or a social event. It can be quick and feverish, like a forbidden affair; it can be leisurely and languid, like lovemaking on a summer afternoon.

Coffee drinking is about cupping the warm, steaming mug in my hands, worrying in back and forth gently as I blow the steam and inhale the aroma. It's about the first taste and swallow, the soothing, rich, fulfilling smoothness of it. If the coffee is the perfect temperature-- not so hot it burns my tongue, not so cool that it tastes like paste-- all the better. Coffee with the hint of chocolate or vanilla or hazlenut (but mostly chocolate). Coffee that is sweet and creamy and swirly on my tongue.

I want coffee. I need coffee. I need comfort.

Posted by Kristina Wright at January 7, 2004 5:56 PM | TrackBack