Working at a coffee shop, I drink a lot of coffee. A lot. I love it, and never really felt like I took it for granted or anything. I've always appreciated the glorious sensation of an expertly made latte gliding down my throat like melted butter, or the new lease on life I get after that first delicious cup of French press in the morning. I knew giving it up would be hard, and my job would be torture. And it is. I forgot that withdrawal goes hand in hand with giving up an addiction. If I'm honest I guess I was in denial just a bit, and thought it wasn't actually an addiction, just a little treat I get multiple times a day, but coffee's kind of a drug, so naturally stopping the normal flow is messing with me physiologically. I'm Diana, and I'm a coffaholic. Up until about noon yesterday (day 1) I was fine, just a little sleepier than normal, but after that I had a pretty bad headache that lasted until sometime after I went to bed. And by 8 I was useless. Today I woke up to a long-lasting haze and a bloody nose (coincidence? maybe), and it only took 5 hours to start functioning at an almost-normal level. Admittedly I cheated a bit and had a few sips of coffee, all for educational purposes of course, and I know I'll cheat tomorrow for a coffee tasting at work. We got an Ethiopian sun-dried coffee that tastes like a fruit salad exploding in your mouth. It's just too good to pass up...
(Enter 4 hours)
...And crap! I just slept through half of Alice in Wonderland.
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