It’s a Little Like Meth…

I had 8 cups of coffee the other day and they did not make me climb the walls.

I don’t quite understand the effects of caffeine.  I mean, I do understand them from a biochemical standpoint, but I don’t follow why all that coffee didn’t set my heart a-fluttering.  On other days a single cup will wind me up.  Maybe it had something to do with recent sleep deprivation canceling out the effects of caffeine stimulation.  Maybe some of the cups were mostly decaf (they were).  I certainly had to pee a lot.

For several years now I’ve been pretty good about reducing my caffeine uptake by mixing decaf with regular coffee.  Mostly I drink coffee that’s only about 1/3 decaf.  My morning driving mug is about 20 ounces, so that’s less than a single cup of hi-test joe.  About 3 weekdays I end up having a second round of java at lunchtime; and on weekends I usually imbibe twice a day.  Since I cut back on the caffeine the withdrawal headaches have gone away, and I sometimes (rarely) go a day without any coffee.

I really don’t like the taste of coffee.  The smell is great, but after drinking it I have to brush my teeth or swish some Listerine to kill the bad taste in my mouth.  But it’s lo-cal so it beats chugging a Coke on a regular basis.

Yet:  Coffee is a big part of my life.  Business deals  – especially over lunch – are consummated with coffee.  Morning staff meetings aren’t comprehended unless I’m sipping on a warm mug of that brown stuff.  Dinners at a fancy restaurant with my wife, Sunday mornings reading the newspaper, 3 PM business interviews, winter days, summer days – they all stop and wait for me to have a sip before flowing through and past my life.

Coffee is in my veins.

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