A Letter to...Coffee

Disclaimer: This post contains significant discussion of and/or reference to my bodily functions.  If this freaks you out, disgusts you, or just plain doesn't interest you, please don't read.

Dear Coffee,

You and I have what I would consider a "long-term" relationship.  While it is true that for the majority of my life, I shunned your existence, all of that changed in my first year of college.  Sleeping only four to five hours a night, waking up at 5 AM for crew practices, and endless hours of homework - all of these conditions converged into the perfect storm that made me listen to the hushed, frantic whispers of the overly-caffeinated drug gods: "Go on, just try it.  One sip...it will keep you awake through chemistry!"

That was the beginning of the end.  One cup of weak, college coffee later and I stayed alert through chemistry for the first time all semester.  I was hooked.  It seemed innocent enough at first.  You and I didn't hang out every day.  We met up a few times a week when I really needed you to stay awake.  And then, of course, things changed.  Life got more complicated, I got less sleep, and soon I was hanging out with you every day.  By the time I graduated, I was chugging that weak, college coffee like it was water.  (Which it was, essentially.)  

Then, I tried to change.  I decided to be virtuous.  I quit you, cold turkey!  We didn't meet up again for MONTHS.  Alas, it was not meant to last.  Like any good addict, all it took was one really tough week, and I was back to hanging out with you.  The descent was much faster this time.  Within a week, you and I were meeting up every day.  After two weeks, it was multiple times a day.  I managed to keep it to two cups per day.  That's more than enough, I thought.  Oh, how wrong I was...

You and I are so deeply entwined by now that I consider you my life-blood.  You keep me moving on days when I don't eat, you keep me awake and chipper through endless hours of nannying, and um, your diuretic and laxative properties serve a crucial role in my life.  Today, though, marked a new high (low?) in our relationship.  Today, I went to the bathroom and...my pee smelled like coffee.  So strongly that I checked to make sure I hadn't spilled my cup into the toilet.  (Which would have been a sin unto the Lord, by the way.  WASTING COFFEE IS A SIN.)  I flushed hurriedly and walked away, convincing myself it was a freak occurrence.  It wasn't.  Every time I've peed today, it has smelled like you.  The fact that it's still yellow (and not coffee-colored, as the smell would suggest it should be) is remarkable.  Sadly, this highly obvious sign that perhaps you and I are spending a bit too much time together will go ignored by me (with the exception of this blog post to commemorate the occasion) because, hi, I need you.  I need you in order to stay awake.  I need you to suppress my appetite.  And yes, I need you if I ever want to poop.  So, coffee, I realize that our relationship changed today.  But I'm not running away.  In fact, I'm already looking forward to the morning, when I get to greet your sweet self one more time...

Love,

Cait

Second disclaimer: Yes, I poke fun at my eating disorder.  Yes, you might think this is in bad taste.  I'm not going to apologize.  If I didn't laugh sometimes, I'd be crying all the time.  So either laugh along with me, or go cry by yourself.