Thursday, October 13, 2005

Did I really say coffee is a...miracle?

I'm in London, sitting four floors up from Marylebone High Street, realizing that this is the first day in more than two months in which I haven't had a single cup of coffee. What I wrote yesterday -- about coffee being a liquid miracle -- those are the words of an addict. It's not cute anymore, the way I wake up and think about coffee, the way I get a headache in the afternoon if I've skipped it in the morning. I'm staging an intervention for myself, right here, and I might as well try to kick the every day habit while I'm away from New York, where Kudo Beans' Pumpkin Spice blend isn't calling my name when I walk down First Avenue.

Nineteen days ago, I gave up sugar, wheat, fruit, juice, and more than three glasses of wine a week. It started as a two-week test but I'm still doing it and I don't have any cravings anymore (I don't think I have as much energy either but I'm writing that off as due to my now skyrocketing cholesterol. Yea, eggs!) and I figure if I could get over the sugar hump (which, for me, hit every 24 hours at about 4 in the afternoon) then I can get through the no-coffee headaches.

Plus, I'm alone here, which I hadn't mentioned because I don't know how I feel about it. I got to Robert's apartment from Heathrow at eleven o'clock this morning and he was gone. I found a note from him and when I called, he admitted that he'd just gotten to the office and would be there until six-thirty or seven. I want to be the understanding partner who remembers what it's like to have real professional obligations but I'd be lying if I said I'm not the tiniest bit blue not to have found him here this morning, waiting to say hello, thanks for coming to England to see me. Is that awfully selfish?

I mention the food thing because normally, napped, showered, dressed, made-up, and waiting for Robert, I would be either eating chocolate or drinking fresh orange juice and Campari or spooning rhubarb yogurt out of, ahem, two or three containers. None of those things ever feels good because they've nothing to do with hunger or thirst. I talk more than I wish I did about how tired I am of waiting for him to change.

Listen, Sarah: any change that happens is going to be your doing. By comparison, coffee seems like the easiest thing in the world to give up.


Anonymous camille said...

Why do you keep giving things up? You should let more in?

I am also beginning to think that if you go and stay with Robert in London permanently you must find some volunteer work to consume you. This lolling around the house is sinful.

Oh and yes! The only thing you can change is yourself but the opportunities are boundless!

9:23 AM  

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