Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Mud. Joe. Wake-up juice. Brain lubricant. Java. Coffee.
The warm rich smell of fresh brew. The hissss of milk steaming for a soothing latte. The pleasingly creamy brown color. The satisfying beep of a drip coffee maker telling you that its labor of love is complete and that you may now begin the transition from bleary-eyed, incoherent sonambulism to willing participant of the new day.
I definitely cannot get by without my daily quality time with Mrs. Olson. Nor should I have to. I have so few vices (other than my myriad of hobbies), so I think I'm somewhat entitled to at least this one. Anyone who knows me knows better than deprive me of this.
Is it an addiction? Maybe, but even so - bring it on! I'm a very happy coffee-junkie and very willing to allow the likes of $tarbuck$, Honey Dew donuts, and just about any diner or roadside truckstop to continue being my pushers.
A second cup? Yes, please - and just pass the coffee pot, if you will.