Nectar of the gods

April 20, 2006

I’ve been a coffee addict since I was 15. I started at a wedding reception, and it all went downhill from there. But I didn’t become a coffee snob until my twenties. (After all, if one is going to become a snob about something, their twenties is definetly the time to do it.) I started sampling the flavored coffees, learned exactly how much would make a GOOD cup of coffee. And I refused to drink coffee that offended me.

“Life is too short to drink bad coffee.” This became my motto. I even got to the point were I’d go without coffee rather than drink slugde.

But today I found my way back to the dark side. I had to open the testing center at 7:30 a.m. after only six hours of sleep and I was dragging. I was a slug. I was worthless. The secretary from across the hall came over to tempt me with leftover pastries from their eight a.m. meeting. As I was headed out the door she said nonchalantly that there was leftover coffee in the carafes.
Hmmm, I thought to myself. This isn’t going to be good coffee, but maybe, I can mask the taste enough to get some caffine in me.

I was right. It wasn’t good coffee, but to the desperate, it was the nector of the gods. I’m finally functioning at 11:14 in the morning and I am believing that I can make it through the rest of the day. I had forgotten about this unique lift that only coffee can give. A coke will bolster you up, but it won’t put you in gear. Is it any wonder that the overworked, tired and bedraggled settlers of the New World said “Tea be DAMNED! Give me COFFEE!”

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