Notes of Appreciation

Coffee

February 2, 2019

Or maybe this is about rituals. The things you do to string together the days with purpose and anticipation. The things that keep you moving.

Coffee does that. I hate waking up — it’s always too soon, I’m always too groggy. But I know what comes next: I’m going to go dump some coffee grounds into a little paper basket, feed some water into the tank of a plastic machine, then flip a switch and go stand in the shower with half a brain turned on. Then when I’m dressed, I pour the hot soak-water into a cup and take it with me to the next phase.

And that’s part of what I like about coffee. I don’t need it, there’s no discernible nutritional value, and I waste hundreds of dollars on it over the course of a year. But somehow I can drink it every day, and it still doesn’t feel indulgent. In fact, it feels necessary.

Maybe that’s addiction. Isn’t that addiction? When you do something over and over for no reason other than you enjoy doing it? Is it enjoyment? Do I enjoy coffee, or do I just use it?

What if it was a different ritual? What if, instead of making hot soak-water every morning, I did jumping jacks and sang along to “Rainbow Connection?” What if I opened the window and screeched like a rooster? What if I just stayed in bed and slowly fell through the mattress?

I don’t think coffee is bad, then.