Monday, March 8, 2010
Today was the day that I began to cut back on my caffeine
I think - in fact, I'm pretty sure - that I've done this before. A
couple bunch of times. I'll spare you the pain and I won't link back to my previous attempts episodes. I'm weak and I have no willpower. It's pathetic.
I tell Mr. A that it is a very good thing that I've lived a squeaky clean lifestyle when it comes to addictive substances. If I ever had the ill-conceived notion to get adventurous with nefarious substances, I'd have been a goner long ago.
I've given up coffee cold-turkey a couple of times. Each time, it took an entire weekend - Friday night 'till Monday morning - before I was remotely ambulatory and partially functioning. Caffeine withdrawal makes me sick. There's a sign or a lesson there that I'm ignoring, isn't there?
It's not the coffee that's the problem. It's the sugar and cream that I doctor it up with that are the real culprits. I'm convinced that white sugar is the devil's work. It's got to be one of the worst substances on the planet that we ingest. Yet I continue to pour it into each and every cup of coffee I prepare. I continue to shout, "Triple, triple!!" into the drive thru speaker box. I thought the little creamers you get at the restaurant were bad with their 10% Real Cream...until I discovered how decadent a cup of coffee can be at home with Table Cream. 18% of creamy, buttery, fatty richness.
Today I distracted myself long enough that it was 2pm before I had my first coffee of the day. By then, my eyes felt like they were being turned inside out, my brain had a pulse and my stomach threatening to.... The Girl Child was experiencing a crisis of dramatic teenage proportions and was taking it out on the rest of us who love her most. I was desperate.
I made a lovely Golden French Toast flavoured coffee in a
pail tall travel mug. I looked at all the headroom in the mug and I made another right on top of the first. I poured in a generous estimate of 'enough' sugar, topped it off with cream so it was sloshing out the hole in the lid and the kids and I walked to the rink in time to meet our friends for skating.
Beautiful things happen when you have the perfect cup of coffee. But I digress. I'm supposed to be cutting back not extolling the virtues. So let's just say that I made it through the rest of the day and I have a feeling the coffee(s) helped.
This evening was
chaotic busy and challenging. I was finally able to help solve The Girl's crisis, I dealt with Mr. A's in-laws (ahem), got The Boy to his last hockey of the season, pulled off a proper dinner with Mr. A's help in under an hour - cleanup included and I ninja-cleaned without freaking out because we had surprise company stopping by. And I did it all with that pesky raging headache that was plaguing me again. Monday is Laundry Day, folks, not Sit In My Clean House Day. Most people can deal with this kind of business at the end of their day with patience and finesse. Not me. This kind of evening makes me crazy want a coffee. Nice coping mechanism, eh?
So I made a lovely cuppa and - because I'm cutting back - I decided to
use be brave and forgo the cream and sugar. Instead, I whacked it with that liquid bravery to cut the bitter coffee taste that I really don't like. Kahlua flavoured bravery is the best.
I'm aiming for two coffees tomorrow. Then I start to cut the good stuff with decaf.
♥ Mrs. A.