So yesterday, for reasons known only to the gods, I decided to try and go without caffeine.
I’ll wait while you pick your jaw up off the floor.
Back with me? Great. So, I can hear you asking, why on earth would I do something like that. (More likely you’re thinking, “Good God, man. Are you out of your mind?” Best not to answer that.) It’s a well-known fact that the coffee-to-blood ratio in my body is probably around 2:1. This, I realize, may not be the healthiest thing in the world. I know, all things in moderation, but I’ve never been a big fan of moderation.
OK, that’s a lie, but I’ve often thought nothing succeeds like excess. Or someone else thought that, and I just stole their line.
Where was I? Coffee. Right. So, I’m writing this while I drink a cup of Caribou blend from my writing mug (the one that says “What Deadline?” on the side), so you know I didn’t quite succeed in going cold turkey. Well, I succeeded. For a day.
It was scary.
But getting back to the question of why, I read this article on the subject this weekend and realized that if you asked me how many cups of coffee I drink in an average day, I couldn’t tell you because I fill up the cup so often, I lose count.
Also, math is hard.
Anyway, the symptoms in the article ring true, especially the things about fatigue, exhaustion and most of all, irritability. (Is it the caffeine that makes me a stone cold bitch? All this time I thought it was keeping me from being an even bigger one.) So, I decided to forgo the bean yesterday (or at least drink decaf).
Oh, the pain.
I had to pop Advil at least three times during the workday, and by the time I got home, I was feeling partly to mostly foggy. I couldn’t even read before I went to bed, because it was too hard to concentrate.
I’m having a cup this morning before I switch over to decaf—and I’m also trying to drink more of this clear, flavorless liquid. What’s it called? Oh yeah, water.
I know Captain Janeway beat the Borg with coffee, but at what price?