Ode to my favorite drug.

Last night, as I laid in bed, willing myself to fall asleep, I consoled myself with the fact that when I awoke in the morning, I could make a lovely pot of coffee that would make my day start off right. That thought made me think, "Wow, coffee is truly an addiction for me."

I was not always a coffee lover. In fact, I recall telling my mother rather sassily when I was younger, "I will never ever drink coffee." My family has always been big coffee drinkers. Every household from my mom's to my grandparents' had that trusty drip machine, always going at the first light of the day.

When I went to college, I was struck with the realization that it was cool to hang out in cafes and that those Starbucks cups were the ultimate collegiate accessory. I started off drinking a medium cardboard Starbucks container half-filled with Starbucks bitter blend, topped off with a hefty pour of milk and a long pour of sugar. Slowly, I worked the ratio down to just a little topping of half and half and then no sugar. In fact, by my sophomore year, my gal pals and I would get into the habit of having "dessert and coffee" after our cafeteria dinners. We'd fill our little diner mugs with the coffee and keep our fingers crossed for something really good, like cherry pie or desserts. But coffee was always included.

A summer spent in Europe many years ago further nurtured this love of coffee. Quick espressos sipped standing up at train stations in Rome, frothy cappucinos enjoyed at Rinaldo's before class in the morning (despite learning that cappucinos were afternoon drinks in Italia) and sitting outside under the awning in a summer rainstorm with an americano in Strasbourg, France, coffee was sexy, and a real lifestyle, over the pond. And, aside from realizing that tea was the better option in London (instant coffee is ggggggrrrrosss), I had some of the best coffee of my life that summer.

From that early time over ten years ago, coffee has become a critical part of my day and my life. I make it at my home every morning and do not comprehend how people can make it all the way to work before they have their first sip of coffee. I have a fancy-ish coffee pot that grinds my coffee beans stored in their own vacuum Tupperware container every morning for the freshest brew possible. In fact, when I started dating my boyfriend, he advised me that if we wanted to keep dating, I would have to kiss the Folgers goodbye. Clearly, the best part of waking up for him was not Folgers in his cup. I like him, so I decided to fancify my life and have fresh-ground beans every day.

I know that I'm full-blown addicted. My boyfriend this weekend says to me, "Amanda, when you have kids, you're really going to have to ween yourself off of coffee. I think if you went cold turkey, you'd kill someone." He may have a point there. I do try to avoid all human contact before I have had my morning coffee.

Perhaps one day I will have to ween myself off the good stuff. But for now, I will continue to support my addiction. Just a smidge of real creamer and no sugar, thanks.