Coffee

I have a confession: I now drink coffee. And I love it.

I know, it’s shocking. I successfully was able to avoid getting into the habit during my four years of college, and even when living in Spain for four months the first time. But sadly I could not stand strong forever. I started shortly after arriving in Spain, when I had my orientation for my job in October.

It was early in the morning, and I was herded into a lecture hall with hundreds of other language assistants like myself. It was going to be a long day of just hearing a panel of Spaniards talk about what is expected of us in our jobs, what we need to know, etc. It was exhausting straining my ears to hear them well enough, and my mind to understand everything they were saying.

Needless to say, I fell asleep after the first two hours.

Thankfully, there was a break at midday where they offered us coffee and pastries. Since there was nothing else to drink, I reluctantly took a cup of coffee. No cream was available, but there was a packet of sugar sitting in my saucer. I poured it in, stirred it around, and thirstily gulped the coffee down.

From that point on I was WIRED. I was so wide awake I couldn’t even close my eyes long enough to BLINK. The rest of the day I was sitting on the edge of my seat, taking notes and listening with rapt attention. I was jittery, and as I was told by other people there, talking faster than I normally do!

Who knew that one cup of near-black coffee could keep me awake and energized for an entire day? I was quickly hooked on the feeling, and knew that from that day on, I could no longer evade the deliciousness that is coffee.

I don’t drink it every day; in fact I can probably count how many times I’ve had coffee on two hands. But it is becoming more frequent, both here and when I was at home during Christmas. I feel older now, a little more refined and sophisticated. It’s a new me.