Coffee

When I was in high school, probably my junior year or so, my dad was up getting breakfast at the same time as me and asked me if I wanted a cup of coffee. I said no, I didn't like coffee, and he joked that I'd never live through college unless I drank coffee.

I did live through college, and grad school, and a crappy freelancing job and year and a half of a real job without drinking coffee. Diet Coke and similar products--diet cherry Coke, diet Pepsi, whatever--have always been my best caffeinated friends. They make me happy. And they're so deliciously cold and bubbly, and sometimes feel like you're drinking battery acid. Sodas are for me.

Last winter I got mildly hooked on the cafe au lait (misto, if you happen to go to Starbucks, because they are freaking Nazis). It's one-half or one-third milk, which cuts the bitterness of the coffee, and it's warm and sweet when you throw in a few sweetener. I used to like to stop and get one over the winter when I was done running in the freezing rain or something equally stupid. The cooler weather lately (although it's getting into the low 80s now as I speak, naturally) has made me crave them again.

I decided to start making my own instead of throwing $2.50 at Starbucks every time. I brought milk up to work, and last week mixed my own drinks with the giant communal coffee pot in our break room. Then on Friday I realized I was drinking more caffeine than I really needed, and I worried about going down what Dan refers to as "that slippery slope."

My dad is addicted to his coffee. He drinks about 36 ounces a day from a giant tub, laced with sweetener, and he probably drinks more when he gets to work. I still love my soda, and I don't want to be drinking insane amounts of caffeine--I've been through that phase of my life, and it doesn't need to happen again. So I went to Target last night and bought a 4-cup coffee maker and some decaf ground, and brought my own coffee to work today.

It's another one of those "holy shit I'm an adult" moments. It's also one of those "holy shit I'm just like my father" moments. It's funny when you start realizing your parents' traits in yourself; usually it's a good thing, but it's still strange. I'm very much like my father, as I think I've probably discussed before. My mom and sister get cold sores; my dad and I get canker sores. My mom and sister can be hot tempered; my dad and I get annoyed a lot, but rarely really, really mad. There's 101 more examples, but no one needs to be subjected to them.

My coffee maker was quite nice today. I'm looking forward to it through the winter. Maybe I'll start gradually decreasing the milk and become like my dad. Maybe I'll get myself a giant tub-mug to drink out of. Maybe my dad would like my apartment now if he came to visit, since the 4-cup maximum is his minimum for waking up.