I might as well turn in my writer card
As I write this, I am in the process of doing something I never thought I would do. I’m giving up…coffee.
I’m the guy who once wrote a blog post called Coffee, the Literary Elixir. I’m the guy who can drink Agent Gibbs under the table.
Coffee is part of writing. And not that floofy dessert coffee you get at the Starbucks stand at Barnes and Noble, either. I mean coffee, the beverage where you filter water through ground up beans and drink the result. Not with crushed ice or whipped cream or little chocolate shavings. It’s a simple beverage to make. You take a cup and put coffee in it and give it to me. (The guy at Dunkin Donuts still doesn’t get the concept.)
And I’m weening myself. I’m doing this three-week cleanse thing. It’s got a very strict diet and when you do the cleanse, you have to limit yourself to what’s on the diet. Among the things that aren’t on the diet are Panera cinnamon crunch bagels (or any bagels for that matter), Pop-Tarts, and any food or beverage featuring a drug, such as beer or coffee.
In order to prepare for this event, I’ve gradually switched from regular coffee with caffeine, the fuel that keeps capitalism running, to decaf. And once the switch is complete…no coffee.
One of the reasons for the switch is that I’m sleepy. A lot. And by changing my food choices, I hope to change that. And by resetting my body, I hope to make a permanent and lasting change in my food choices. That will make me less sleepy. And that will cut down on the amount of writing time I spend slipping in a fifteen minute power nap when I ought to be working on revisions.
I suspect there may be some decaff in my future. But as of now, I am bidding a bittersweet (with an emphasis on bitter, if I’m drinking Starbucks) goodbye to a twenty-five-year love affair.
Can you even be a writer if you don’t drink coffee?