Friday 22 October 2021

Coffee divorce, final

I would say the tragedy of me not drinking coffee anymore is that the difference is night and day. I didn't even think that three white Neskafes per day max, but often just one, were such f a big deal. Alright, yes, I still have a wee bit of a headache, but it's nothing worth mentioning. Plus I got a nib of a cold, walking outside in furious winds with my hair wet yesterday. My atlas feels like a wedge. 

      However. I am not tired all the time anymore. I'm not nervous. I am not irritable. I am not anxious. I don't throw fits or go into tantrums five times a day, because someone said the wrong thing or some kids screamed in the street, playing. I'm not snappy. I think I even focus better, although me focussing better is like saying garden snails are a pinch faster than slugs. It's not a given. 


Fucking tragedy, really. I so miss it. Not YEARN it, because I'm not, at all. Just miss the smell and the taste and the warmth. Cikorija is a wonderful substitute, except it has no kicking effect and tastes like a granite brick powdered in arsenic. 

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