Of the memory of late nights

I like my caffeine in two forms: Diet Coke and coffee. For years I've favored the Diet Coke option but lately I've been drinking a lot more coffee. Delicious, wonderful coffee.

I was sort of late to the coffee-drinking game. My parents didn't drink coffee. (They're tea drinkers. Tea!? Boiled leaves. I just don't get it.) I stuck by the Diet Coke all through college. Even once I started working, Steve and I stuck by the cold, carbonate caffeine. "We drink pop!" we would declare, holding onto our midwestern roots. "Pop!" When chemists think you're a dork, well, that's just a bit sad. 

I blame Jerry. He took me to diners and insisted that, once I started grad school, I'd have to drink coffee. (Of course, if Jerry had suggested I chew ground glass, I probably would've taken that up.) Sugar was not allowed, so I started with coffee and cream and haven't changed since. 

I'm kind of picky about how I have my coffee. I like half and half (or, if I can get it, real cream), not milk. Milk waters the whole thing down too much. I won't drink coffee in styrofoam (I can feel the monomer leaching out of the cup. Please see the above statement regarding chemists.) I will drink it out of one of those paper cups, but prefer an actual mug. Although I'm not too picky about the actual coffee, I really can't stand the office brew. If I drink coffee at a restaurant, I stir in an ice cube, which my Nana used to do.

The bad thing about coffee is that it kills my stomach. Until recently, I couldn't drink coffee more than about four days in a row. Since I've been drinking more coffee, my stomach has toughened up, and I've been able to go for over a week. Maybe that's why it was a purge-free Christmas this year.