I mean, you knew this was coming, right? On this Monday morning, I am thankful for coffee.
I drink my coffee black. I usually use my Eddie Vedder mug on weekday mornings. My husband bought it for me when we went to see him in concert. It’s a tall mug so I have to be sure not to lollygag or my coffee will get cold. The horror.
Not only do I require coffee to get my day started, but I enjoy coffee. I love the taste. I love the smell. I even love it in the afternoon.
What I’ve noticed about coffee over the years is that it is a social beverage as well as a source of comfort. Grabbing coffee with a friend is a nice way to catch up. Seeing another mom holding her coffee at the bus stop allows for a moment of bonding. After a meal with a group of friends or family, when coffee is offered everyone relaxes a bit more.
And if you don’t drink coffee? People do not understand. You are in the minority. Those of us who enjoy our coffee feel sorry for you because you are missing out on the wonderfulness we all enjoy.
I didn’t always like coffee. I started drinking it in college. When I was younger, the smell of a fresh pot of coffee was a comfort but I didn’t have much interest in drinking it. The rumor was it would stunt your growth. No thanks, coffee. I want to be tall. And now I’m only tall-ish, so I probably could have started this habit earlier.
Now I have a couple cups in the morning and one in the afternoon. I have to watch my caffeine intake; the goal is to be — wait for it — slightly overcaffeinated. Too much and I’m bouncing off the walls. Too little and I’m leaning on them. Three cups a day seems to be the right amount for me.
I love that no matter where I travel, which is usually either in the US or Central America, I never have to worry if they will have coffee.
And for that I am thankful.