cuppa the finest

(or: in case anyone was wondering about my addictive personality)
coffee has always been somewhat a major part of my life. from my tenderest years, our after Mass routine on Sunday included a pot of the blackest (decaf) coffee, liberally supplemented with cream and sugar. later, in high school, coffee came to supplement my increasing daily ration of cigarettes, especially my junior year, when i spent more time at big boy's imbibing obscene quantities of obscene quality coffee and chain smoking for hours than i did at school. this routine continued with only minor variation at college. by my senior year i was drinking six cups a day or more--it was the only thing available between meals. there was no improvement in the quality, either. my friend alex said it tasted "like the color brown." i don't know if i've ever heard a better description of anything.

my daily cup of what the Irish call "white coffee".
mmmmmm, cream.

in grad school, even when the smoking quit, the coffee certainly did not. it became a comforting routine as my roommate and i bonded over our daily cups and developed a true friendship, which continued even after my marriage. during my first pregnancy, my daily cup kept my blood pressure at levels somewhat necessary to sustain life.
while the mothers were here over baby time, i had a big ol' cup of coffee every morning, served up to me with first-class thoughtfulness. i hadn't been drinking more than the occasional cup of coffee while pregnant, because it just didn't agree (another difference from Finn), and i thought, especially since it was lent, there would be no need to continue pampering myself. not only that, despite the fact that i've been drinking coffee since i was about six, it doesn't taste quite the same.
but i can't stop.