Chemically Dependent

I strolled into work with minutes to spare - the drive to work had been done in a zombified state – breakfast was good but something was lacking… Waiting in front of the moneymaking corporation’s elevators, I avoided exchanging morning pleasantries. What is with mornings that everyone has to say hello? I mean it’s not just about being nice to the people in your department or on your floor – no, everyone says hello, everyone… Normally, I’d also be slinging my hellos and slipping my good mornings to the people around me. But today was different; I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I could feel it – there was a sense of total discombobulation. What the hell is going through my head? Something’s amiss and I can’t figure it out… The biggest problem is locating the source of discomfort – once you know what it is, that’s half the battle – whether it’s guilt, shame, pain, whatever, once you figure out why you’re feeling blue – you can now work on focusing your attention on the solution… This morning was a totally different case… I had no idea what the hell was happening in my world…

Riding the elevator with the covered mafia, my hallucinations began… Audio and Visuals – I could’ve sworn Bertha (the leader of the cackle of covered women where I work that refuse to have any form of communication or interaction with any member of the opposite sex, because they wouldn’t want to tempt me – sweetie, there is no way on Earth you will ever - let me repeat that, ever, tempt me) actually said hello to me… like lemmings one by one they all ensued in their good mornings… tears welled up in my eyes – what the hell was happening to me?

Leaving the elevator I took a quick right and then a left and made my way to my department’s designated work space… plunking down at my desk, turning on my computer, the lull of the machine normally puts my heart to ease, but this time, it was frustrating… my fingers were rapping the desk to some 99bpm. My knees started to shake.. the migraine began to pierce my head like a jackhammer – pain, debilitating short term pain, not something you couldn’t live with, but just pain that you didn’t need that early in the morning.

And then, like a ton of bricks, it hits me.. I need caffeine. The pain I’m feeling in my head is because of the caffeine, I need coffee and I need it now. Yes yes I know, it’s an addiction that gives you headaches if you don’t cater to it, stains your teeth, leaves you with nasty coffee breath, a diuretic (need I say more?) – but there’s nothing I can do about it.. I need coffee to start my day and then I might need some coffee before lunch and then I will definitely need coffee after lunch to give me that final push to the day’s finish line.

My derived use of coffee is split down the middle, I like the taste of it when it’s good coffee, and I use it to jolt my system. I’m a regulated addict, I’ll drink it when I need to pick myself up and I’ll drink it whenever I feel like it. it just does so many wondrous things to your heartbeat that you can’t really ignore the benefits of coffee..

When this whole thing started, I was particular with my coffee consumption; i had to be drinking something decent. I refused to go near the instant coffee tin at the office, save that for when you’re trapped in a hidden bunker hiding from the fascists. I’ve been known to slum it and drink the instant or folgers, but the pains in my stomach afterwards are just not worth it. And after a family donation, I was the proud owner of an unused Espresso machine that now resides at our designated workspace. She’s my little baby, she’s temperamental at times and can kick up a fuss, but she does get me going. Her steamer doesn’t work as well as I’d like it too, but she does give me good head, of espresso that is..

It didn’t take long before we’d become world-class baristas: Americanos, Macchiatos, lattes, we even created our own version of the cappuccino – notquiteuccino (told you the steamer doesn’t work). It’s not like we’re dolts that spend all our money ordering from these overpriced coffee houses (that does happen though) – no we buy our ground beans and make our own deliciously tasting coffee… well not right now, because it seems my coffee connection “Midel” can’t seem to find me a regular sized bag of ground espresso, and they’re trying to push the 1 kilo bag of pure Café Colombia.

This started with me being angry at my caffeine addiction and turned into my love affair with coffee and the little krups that could. Don’t you wish you worked with me? On the plus side, you’d be drinking delicious coffee. On the minus, you’d be dealing with highly caffeinated people who would probably get you to sing along to some Sinatra tune – maybe even some 50cent..