Coffee. It shines golden light on the cobwebby corners of the ol' brain... Brings a ray of hope to otherwise gray skies... And reissues identity to that puffy, slack-jawed face staring back in the bathroom mirror.
And now the luscious lure of an outrageously good two-for-one sale-- and a shining vision of the ultimate Java Nirvana-- has led me to behavior that otherwise wouldn't have taken hold of my soul...
I have been hoarding bags of Eight O'Clock Coffee.
And by hoarding, I mean there are now enough two-pound bags of the stuff stockpiled in my basement that the U.S. could go under nuclear attack, and I could happily live down there-- high on coffee, tinned soup and laundry detergent fumes-- for the better part of a year.
Okay, so there are also spiders down there big enough to give Godzilla a decent toss-down for Tokyo. But unlike that uncompromising giant lizard, I think the spiders and I could work out some kind of accord.
My future in a post-apocalyptic society feels secure. And it is coffee that powers this positivity.
I get overwhelmed with joy just seeing those bags of coffee sitting down there. A strange contentment washes over me, knowing that my mornings will be continue to be filled with the rich, nutty pick-me-up that blows out the brain dust-- all at a fiscally-responsible price during these dark economic times.
And so at $6 (before coupon) for a huge two-pound bag of that blissful black bean... Well, my mind envisions whole towers of coffee bags, vacuum-sealed and safe, each waiting for their turn in the morning routine... waiting for their one true and glorious purpose...
I have images of Juan Valdez and a chorus of tiny little burros, nestled in lush green South American mountains, singing enthusiastic old Columbian serenades to the beauty of the first fresh-brewed cup...
Waterfalls pouring free with gorgeous deep-brown java as rainbows streak across them...
And beans whirling in a musical tribute that rivals Fred and Ginger's best work.
Oh yes, I have had a lot of coffee.
But alas, the two-for-one sale ends Wednesday. So for the next few days, my lunch break-- which usually includes a song-and-dance number in honor of the excellent salad bar-- will now include the Quest for the Eternal Bean, pre-ground, in a final attempt to secure just a few more examples of blissful enlightenment-in-a-bag.
Perhaps you might even see me, doing an impromptu Spring dance in Aisle 12, my basket runneth over with the inspiration that puts the zippity-do-dah in my days.
And yes, yes, I know-- addiction may be an ugly thing. But half-price addiction has a face that can really grow on you.
Pass me the cream and Sweet-n-Low, would you? I think I'll have another cup.
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Care to discuss the beauty that is total utter caffeination? I love hearing about other folks' caffeine addictions.
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