The Beginning of My Love Affair with Coffee


The Beginning of My Love Affair with Coffee

I wake up to the smell of coffee each morning. It lures me into a stupor of toasted energized goodness and provides me the motivation to get out of bed every day.  If coffee became a man, we would have had a beautiful love affair and two beautiful caffeinated children by now.

I have always hated morning people because I’m a night owl. The fact that people can wake up at five in the morning with a smile, scares me. I don’t have the capacity to smile, let alone talk in the mornings. Mornings for me, are indeed a mournful thing. When winter hits, I’m the unhappiest soul an individual can encounter. If the decision was up to me, I would snuggle underneath the covers and exit my bed around the hours of one or two in the afternoon.

Coffee was my first love. We have been tight since I entered my freshman year of high school. When I slinked down the stairs on the first day of my freshman year my parents treated me like a kindergartner. They took my picture by the front door; they packed me a lunch and asked me if I had everything a few thousand times. I honestly would have blown a fuse if I hadn’t lost my coffee virginity that day. My parents felt guilty since I went to high school not knowing a single soul and allowed me to finally have my first glorious cup.

I was always a very charming and socially voracious child. I loved people and I enjoyed talking. On my second grade report card I had straight A’s but would have negative comments like, “She talks too much and doesn’t keep to herself”. It was true. It was a quality my mom possessed, while my dad was content with silence. My dad always said that I was a mix of him and my mom. I could be very sociable and craved conversation, I could also sit in my room and watch movies and read for hours on end. I’m very organized physically but my thoughts and ideas are scattered and can be hard for me to pin down at times. If my personality was a resume, I would use words like eccentric and vivacious. It’s not necessarily honest, but it wouldn’t be a lie either.

I think my parents knew I was a peculiar child and wanted to provide me with an advantage that the other children would not have, a kick start to the morning if you will. I stared at the coffee cup they set before me and pondered its contents. My dad watched me with intense curiosity as I took my first sip and crinkled my nose at the taste. He laughed heartily until he started choking on his own coffee. He told me he had played this trick before.

My dad was baking cookies and my two sisters were younger at the time and wondered what vanilla would taste like. They bugged my dad until he relented and decided to “get back” at them and let them try it. He figured it wasn’t harmful and they would finally leave him alone. Coffee and vanilla both smell and look incredible but taste bitter unless they’re enhanced with other ingredients. Apparently they had the same reaction I did to my first encounter with coffee.

There are few people with the ability to drink coffee straight. While I want to be a straight coffee connoisseur, I appreciate sugar too much. I scowled at my dad and pouring a hefty amount of sugar into my mug until I was satisfied. It wasn’t until that sip that I appreciated coffee for its wonderful energy inducing powers. After that, coffee and I were best buds. Sure I needed a little sugar to make my world completely spin round, but I think coffee would understand.

P.S. Yes I do realize I write a lot of my stories revolving around coffee 🙂


About juliagoolia1920

I'm a twenty something wannabee writer, who is trying to figure out this whole adulthood thing. In my free time, when I'm not writing, I enjoy beer and Netflix. Preferably together. I gravitate towards Cincinnati at night and live in the burbs during the day. On my blog you will find reviews, anecdotes, stories and the occasional rant.

Posted on March 7, 2014, in Past Entries and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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