I’ve read some interesting articles on coffee intake in America. One said it’s almost as if we flaunt the addiction, which I can see the truth of after I went through a coffee-related pinning spree on Pinterest. The Frog Queen messaged me later with a what the heck? I blew up her news feed with all things coffee related. Why? Because I wanted to.
As a writer, I’ve noticed there is this general assumption that all writers drink coffee, that we ~almost~ need it to be productive little creators. I could contribute to the argument that I’m a writer, and I didn’t start drinking coffee regularly until a year ago. I could also add to that that it was only when I started drinking it regularly that I actually finished a 118,000 word novel and a 44,000 word novella. But it was also the first time in my life that I wasn’t in school and there was no job to speak of. What else was I going to do with my time?
I like to think that I am not dependant on coffee, that I can get by without it, but honestly, I haven’t tested that theory too much. To me, good coffee is an acceptable, every day creature comfort. There’s nothing that fills me with a sense of contentment and happiness more than a mug of coffee and an open laptop. Sometimes, I look forward to getting to work so I can finally sip on the coffee I brewed that morning. I’ve also recently discovered the magic that is Bailey’s Irish coffee creamer (non-alcoholic, give me a little credit) and oh my. The Irish sure know how to do it right!
Papa B (my Bear’s dad) often says everything in moderation, and I agree with that. Most of the time, I limit myself to two cups of coffee. During the week when I have to work, the amount is just what fits in my travel cup. One cup and some change.
So. Coffee. Addiction or creature comfort? You have to decide for yourself, based on your own habits.