Dear Coffee,

I wish I knew how to quit you.

And not because you’re addicting. But because you throw my system way out of whack and yet I pretend I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I think we can both agree you are the culprit.

Every day, around 4pm, my blood sugar drops…exponentially. Though manageable, until I find something to eat pronto, I suffer from symptoms of anything from wooziness, to rubbery limbs, to anxiety. If nothing else, it’s inconvenient. And yet, I continue my caffeinated shenanigans. You know what I think it is? It’s living in New York City, where coffee is so damn good, and accessible. And so damn good. Not to mention, my husband prides himself as being a coffee connoisseur. So basically coffee is everywhere, weaved into the very fabric of my life.

I think that if I stopped drinking coffee every morning and every night on the weekends as I am right now (literally right now), my heart wouldn’t beat so fast, I wouldn’t be so tired all the time, I wouldn’t be so irritable, and my blood sugar wouldn’t fluctuate like it does. Seems the solution is simple.

One day I’ll suppose I’ll garner enough conviction to boycott the bean, but for now, all I can do is pretend I have any incentive whatsoever.




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