The Truth: Why I Really Drink Coffee

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How many Americans wake up every morning and head straight for the coffee maker? I would look up the statistic but that could potentially bore you (this is, after all, a blog about writing – and if it’s not writing-related do you really want me to throw a statistic at you?). I do know that I am part of whatever this statistic reveals. Okay, more than part of. I probably consume a large percentage of the coffee on this campus, in comparison. Ask anyone.

Believe it or not, there are a few legitimate reasons why I indulge in my caffeine habit (habit, yes. Addiction, questionable). I don’t just do it for laughs (it does get me excited and I do joke about it quite frequently, but that’s beside the point). I honestly think there are some pretty good reasons why I could potentially die without coffee. We’re talking in the long-term here; if I ever get stranded on an island in the middle of nowhere (because, you know, that happens SO often) I’m pretty sure a falling tree or a bear or a tsunami would kill me before a lack of coffee would.

Because, obviously all those things are also COMPLETE possibilities.

Anyway, back to why I need caffeine manually injected into my bloodstream.

For one thing, it wakes me up in the morning. Not an uncommon reason to drink coffee, frankly, until you add in this twist: I am a college student. No, revamp that. I am a college student majoring in English studying to become a dietitian writing a novel interning for a magazine posting random rants on my blog bad at chemistry a runner and a Grammar Nazi (even though comma usage in this passage is atrocious). THEREFORE, I do not sleep, like, ever. This morning I woke up at 3am FOR NO REASON. No coffee in the morning means I am a step below a zombie. I am a zombie that transformed back into a living human, died AGAIN and then got run over by a Starbucks delivery truck (because those exist, duh).

Point: give me coffee when I wake up or die. I will gladly drive the truck. (Trust me. You don’t want me to do that.)

Coffee motivates me to accomplish my goals. True, high doses of caffeine can cause a person to be jittery, anxious and restless (a little food science woven in there for you. You’re welcome). I can honestly say I’ve found the in-between – somewhere between death and extremelyhypermanianess (not a word, but I’m a writer, I can make one up every once in awhile). It gets me ‘worked up’ enough to cross a ton off my to-do list without sending me into inappropriately-timed laughing fits (usually). Got the mug full of coffee, got the Bucket List – I’m good to go.

It makes me a little silly, in a good way, of course. Hence this blog post (I just had coffee, which I really shouldn’t have done this late in the day, but OH WELL). I’m an overall happy person and generally I like to have fun, but I’m not always too confident in my ability to make other people laugh, so I don’t really try. I’m not trying now, but I’m okay with laughing at myself, and I’m sorry, but the truck thing made me giggle. Judge me, go ahead. Coffee also makes me not care about what you think. Mostly.

Last but not least . . .

It’s in my genes. You think I’m kidding. Right? No, there’s not literally a string of caffeine molecules all twisted up in my DNA. (I just took a biochemistry class – THERE’S NOT). Growing up I always hated coffee and told my mom I would never drink it like she did. Then something funny happened. I came to college, actually legitimately developed a small case of insomnia due to unfortunate external factors I won’t elaborate on at this moment, and all of a sudden it was either sleep through College Writing II or learn to like coffee.

She’s reading this (or not) and saying, “I told you so.” I bet you all the coffee in my apartment.

That’s a lot of coffee.

Love&hugs, Meg<3

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