Note to Self

In the spirit of other friends' recent reminders to themselves on their blogs, I'd like to share a recent epiphany-resolution of mine from ten minutes ago:

For one week, I will not be drinking caffeine products (effectively starting 12 midnight, Saturday the 23rd, until 12 midnight, March 1).

If I had wanted to sound more impressive, I could also say - with equal truthfulness - that I won't be consuming anything with caffeine for the rest of the month. I share this with you because it is highly likely that I will - or come very close to - breaking this rule, and I'd appreciate some enforcement as it would be highly entertaining for me. It could also be highly entertaining for the rest of you if you had a betting pool going on this, but I digress.

I'm fairly confident that I am not dependent on caffeine. Although I do enjoy drinking coffee, my main reason for doing so is because of the taste and not because of the energy boost. I imagine that any hyperactivity on my part from drinking coffee comes from the sugar that's been added; I was raised on decaf. And really, for me, coffee is a craving for Starbucks, and not the cadaver-grey fluid from the d-hall (even if it is free trade).

That said, I may have developed some tolerance through my daily consumption of tea. While I do reduce the flavor by using soy milk as a buffer (more about this amazing combination later), the entire process of making a spot o' tea has become an ingrained habit, which brings me to my reasoning for why I'm missing out on the caffeine:

Because Wheaties is the breakfast of champions, and I got dressed at 11, I missed out not only on cereal but also on being a champion today. My bad, especially since today, being a champion is synonymous with "finishing my Expos draft." Because my brainpower wasn't fueled with the necessary fiber, I couldn't think - all the way until 2:30, when I resolved to pick-myself-up with a little caffeine.

But then, my mind-tongue connection slipped and I asked for an expresso.

The cashier put on her matronly face, raising one eyebrow, but didn't ask questions. "Here you go, honey."

I looked down at it. It was tiny. And then I realized why I needed to memorize coffee menus by heart; by definition, an expresso is the shot-sized cup with concentrated coffee. Not the Americano I wanted (watered down expresso in a larger cup), not brewed coffee, not even a ghetto latte that would have frozen my hands on the way to the library.

It was too late to switch orders, and while I marveled at the size of the cup ("It's so cute - the perfect size for my five-year-old son!") I had no idea how to drink it. Maybe like in communion - taking it down in a beat?

Oh, but I was not so brave. It took me three sips, but only one to realize how bitter it was; even an hour later, the aftertaste is still on my tongue.

So in conclusion, forgive my increasingly incoherent post and remind me that there was a direction this caffeine jolt was supposed to take me: towards the conclusion of my paper.