Day 6 with no coffee. David Bowie could write a whole song about it.
This has been a big change. Although I have lingering headaches, those might be sinus-related at this time of the year. Change is hard, and this one has been like ripping off a Band-Aid. Like many life-changes I’ve experienced (divorce, moving), not everyone understands my motivation.
The big question has been “why?” Most people seem a little concerned. Frankly, if I had no health problems with coffee, I would still be drinking it. I like the taste, especially of an espresso with a little tablet of dark chocolate on the side like the serve in Europe. I have nothing against YOU drinking coffee and I know that caffeine in small doses can actually kick a workout into high gear, get rid of migraines, and increase focus at work. I just am not good at limiting myself. I’ve tried having just one cup and I want more. I end up drinking a whole pot, or making more.
Ballet Boy knows why. He knows that sometimes I felt desperate without it. That I was “strung out” before I had more morning coffee. It sometimes made me shaky to perform. It caused horrible burning in my stomach and throat, and nausea, especially in the morning. I felt like I was poisoning myself, but I couldn’t stop. My doctor wants me to take Prevacid to treat GERD, but I can’t combine it with my thyroid medicine that also needs to be taken an hour before eating.
Those feelings are gone. However, I’m not embracing tea yet. I associate tea with being sick or having a sore throat, and it feels watered down to me and flavorless. I’ve tried Irish Breakfast, Earl Grey, Constant Common and a lot of black Chai tea this week. Earl Grey and Chai stick out as my favorites.
The other morning Ballet Boy asked me what I missed most. I told him it was the ritual of making it in the morning. I love(d) my Cuisinart drip maker with a grinder incorporated into the machine. I love(d) the smell of fresh beans in the morning when I open(ed) a canister or a new package. I love the coarse taste with a drop of milk. Note that I’m having trouble writing about this in past tense, and I had to edit this entire paragraph! As I sadly put the Cuisinart down into its box in the basement, I told my son it was like saying goodbye to a friend or breaking up. He told me that my reaction reminded him of what they had studied in Personal Development in seventh grade about addiction. I miss the ritual, the gestures. Eek!
Great! I’m an addict.
It did take me an additional two days, but I just gave my coffee beans to my neighbor. Now I have nothing to make coffee with. It would be nice to think that someday I could just buy a cup at my local coffee bar. Just one. But that’s not for today.
In the same way I’ve gone cold turkey on coffee, I’ve done the same on dating. I’ve refrained from discussing this subject here because it is a raw and personal one. I saw an old friend here who asked me yesterday if I was involved with anyone or dating. As I tried to tell her why I wasn’t, I felt sad. I’ve become very disillusioned with online dating, or the idea of dating at all. I hate the profiling involved online. Do I like one hair color over another? Do I care about ethnicity? If I put down I like to do sports, they match me with Iowa Hawkeye fans and hunters. If I kindly tell a man I’m not into dating him as I see he’s very attached to motorcycles and guns and those aren’t my thing, I get an angry and invasive email back telling me why I am close-minded and need to be more open. Dates with people I really don’t know feel artificial and tiresome.
I guess I am old-fashioned. I want to meet people in a social or work setting. I want a man to ask me to dinner, or for coffee. Wait, make that a glass of wine. I want to know I feel comfortable around that person, see how he interacts with others, instead of communicating by email only before meeting them.
But that just isn’t happening. I work in a small department and it would be more disastrous than anything to get involved with anyone there. Everyone is happily hooked or married, anyway. I believe there might be a few in my local symphonies interested, but they’ve not been forthcoming and don’t seem like good fits (smoking is a deal-breaker for me since I have asthma, a dog, and a child). And there are few people I can imagine fitting into the wonderful life that my son leads as a ballet dancer. He is unique, and it would take a unique kind of person to step into his life at this point.
It may have to wait. I feel like I’ve hit the “pause” button, and I know it’s necessary for some reasons, but sometimes it feels lonely.
Get out your hankies, folks!
I know the cure for that, though! A good run.