It is 8:30 in the evening and I can't wait for my coffee tomorrow morning.
I can't have coffee now! It's nearly bedtime... and I'm going by this "no more than 3 cups a day" rule. Although I abide by this 3 cup rule, I'm actually just deceiving myself, because I drink out of a tall glass which holds twice the volume of an ordinary coffee mug. But don't tell myself that.
It's actually the only thing keeping me alive; the anticipation of coffee tomorrow morning. Like a kid waking up on Christmas morning I immediately dive for the coffee, sloshing it down my gullet like so many cheaply made, non-toxic plastic finger puppets.
I'm bad at the Christmas analogy because the thrill of Christmas morning does not compare to the joy I feel at the prospect of coffee.
And like an eager orphan who's been adopted by billionaires and is allowed to eat as many toys as he likes, the instant I get that coffee into my hands I care not about savouring it or taking my time to enjoy its rich aroma. No. And then I want another.
No comments:
Post a Comment