I tried to quit coffee about 234,987,098... times. I'd go 20 days coffee free, get over the hurdle of the splitting headaches - I am clearly addicted - but then I'd start wondering why am I denying myself this morning pleasure. You see, I love coffee. Having it in the morning is sort of a ritual of wakening and greeting the day. A cup of freshly brewed coffee carries warmth and a promise of a good day, and sets your senses and mind for what's ahead. That quite and early hour of peace and serenity I get before everyone wakes up in my house I absolutely love. Pure bliss.
The moment I'm up, I bee-line for a tall glass of water, grabbing my phone on the way. I know, I know. Bad idea. Especially lately, because there are so many upsetting news. I can't help it. I guess I am addicted to news as much as I am addicted to coffee. I grind the beans, heat the water, toss the grinds into the French press, pour over, let it sit for 4 min, et voila the most perfect cup of coffee emerges. I scroll through the news, read the articles that catch my eye, run through what's planned for the day in my head and then it's time to make breakfast.
I am a proponent of switching things around once in a while: diet, exercise, coffee/no coffee, cleanse/detox, hues of blonde in my hair, etc. to keep life interesting. I also am not someone who does everything perfectly and/or obsessively annoying about a healthy lifestyle. I guess, you better ask my friends about that one. But when it comes to coffee, I tend to come back to it after a short break. I have never been a person who drinks 12 cups a day, as life isn't worth living without that much caffeine, but a cup or two a day is a pretty comfortable moderation. And if something gives you pleasure, why stop? Right?