Confessions of a Coffee Addict
James writes: The other Saturday my coffee maker had a meltdown (literally – there was smoke and everything), and I had to switch over to my emergency jar of instant. Going through a traumatizing morning like this made me appreciate how much I love real coffee.
And I loooooove coffee. For me, all it needs to be the perfect beverage is a little milk. It’s part of my writing process. Some of my best ideas have come on the way out of my office and into the kitchen where the coffee pot is.
Sure, my coffee love affair has had its low points. A couple of years ago I decided I might be getting a little too much caffeine, so I went cold turkey. Three weeks later, my head was still throbbing and my hands were still shaking. I saw my doctor, who agreed that three weeks was too long for coffee withdrawal. As he was writing up the referral for the brain specialist (he was worried, which made me worried), he said, “By the way… how much coffee do you think you were drinking?”
And, for the first time maybe ever, I added it up. I told him, “18 cups a day.”
I’m not making this up. I was drinking a full twelve cup pot in the morning and then Starbucks all afternoon. My doctor laughed, closed his pad, and told me that, for 18 cups a day, three weeks wasn’t too long. And sure enough, the next week the headaches went away and my hands were steady.
Since then I’ve cut back, and manage to keep it down to something like 6 cups a day. That’s reasonable, right?