All eyes turned to the stocky 29 year old in the squeaky metal chair in the corner of the middle school gymnasium. The leader had just suggested he take his turn. He was new to the group. He’d been attending for a couple of weeks now, but never spoke a word. Glancing down at the dirty gym floor and clearing his throat, he rose to his feet.

“Hi,” His voice cracked a little, “My name is Kenny.”

“HI KENNY!” The group welcomed.

He spoke to the floor, too nervous to actually make eye-contact with anyone.
“Um…” he paused, “and I’m addicted to coffee.”

coffeeNot only have I just realized that I am fully and completely addicted to caffeine, but I KNOW for a fact that I CHOSE to become addicted. How’s that for good news?! I was always just a social coffee drinker. I’d have a cup in the morning at work every now and then. As time went on, I knew that I wouldn’t be one of THOSE people who get addicted to coffee. But sure enough, here I am.

The real kicker is – are ya ready for this one? – I DON’T LIKE HOW COFFEE TASTES! I hate it, really. The only way that I can make a cup of coffee even remotely tasteful enough to enjoy is by pounding spoonfuls of artificial sweetener and as much milk (or heavy cream if it’s available) that I can squeeze in the mug.

So, how can someone like me who doesn’t even like the taste of coffee become addicted? I blame my 1-year old daughter actually. She wasn’t quite what one would call a “good sleeper” her first year of life. I definetly got the long straw when it came to tending to her every night – Kate basically went an entire year without a full nights sleep. But it was still tiring for me and I would arrive at work each morning with my eyes still closed. I began to drink more coffee. I began to MAKE the coffee if I was at work early enought. I began having more than one cup every day.

This morning, I was asked a question by a co-worker and realized how foggy my brain was as I attempted to answer the question. Then it hit me, I hadn’t yet had coffee today. Then it REALLY HIT ME: I’m addicted to coffee. I can’t function in the mornings without it.

Okay, so it’s not fair to blame my innocent daughter. It’s completely my fault. Gosh, all this confession is stressing me out. I need more coffee.