About a month and a half ago, just before I started this blog, I was the lucky recipient of one of those fun little stomach bugs. You know, the kind where anything you put into your body makes a quick getaway from the closest available exit?
After I started feeling a little better (i.e. not running for the bathroom every fifteen minutes), I decided that, since I’d just spent the last week or so decaffeinated anyway, I might as well see how long I could go without wonderful, tasty, pick-me-upy coffee goodness.
Which brings us to today. Day 39. And those are just the days I’ve intentionally avoided the stuff. If you included the time I was sick, we’re probably talking 44, maybe even forty-five. Noah didn’t go that long without it (and something tells me he probably sneaked his favorite French press aboard the Arc before hitting the high seas).
Do you know how God damn hard it is to go that long without coffee, especially here in the Northwest? There’s a reason coffee’s numero uno on Stuff White People Like. It’s like not getting wet if you fall into a pool. Or not quoting Star Wars/Monty Python/Battlestar Galactica/Office Space if you’re a geek. Or not getting pounded in the ass in a federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison.
Honestly, I had an easier time giving up cigarettes about eight years ago. Woke up one day, lit my morning Marlboro, thought it tasted like ass, haven’t smoked since. But since various laws prohibit smoking in so many public places, and since I don’t do the bar scene very often in my old age, that temptation isn’t as prevalent.
But coffee? That temptation is around every corner for Our Hero. We always have coffee in the cupboard at home. I get off the train right in front of the Seattle’s Best Coffee inside Borders. I pass no fewer than three smaller cafes and one Starbucks during the ten minute walk to my office (not including the Starbucks that actually on the ground floor of my building). Oh, and there’s fresh coffee brewing in our kitchen all day long, too.
Also gave up soda while I was at it. I’ve had precisely one Diet Coke in that 39 day period, and that’s just because I needed something to mix with my rum. Otherwise, cola-free. And, again, that’s damn difficult. The fridge at the office is stocked daily with free soda for all of us peons. That free-flowing caffeine was one of the reasons I signed on here to begin with.
So now it’s just me and tea (also free, I might add). And that works. Sorta. I suppose it’s like comparing methadone to heroin, or Deep Sleep Nine to The Next Generation. You kinda get your fix, but it’s totally not on par with the good shit.
