Coffee?????? Coffee!!!!!!

Now that I have your attention. I mean I could have titled this story as Sex, but have been told to write about things I know about and coffee seems to beat out sex by just a smidgen.

I woke up this morning to a startling revelation. Have you noticed that drinking coffee from home you can drink 3 cups of coffee in a half an hour but at Starbucks or (insert favorite coffee house here) it can take up to two hours to drink one cup? Yeah I know most of you would say I am with a friend and we talk, or you are reading a book. One could also state that it is so hot but I think the truth is if you are paying 5 bucks for a cup of coffee it better damn last!

I actually hate coffee, Now this may surprise a few of my friends since all I seem to talk about is Starbucks, my need of a gift card so I can drink Starbucks, coffee creamer and OMG I ran out of coffee. The truth is I really do not like the taste of it. I was asked by a friend why I put so much stuff in my coffee. I add creamer either flavored or not. If no creamer I add sugar and if I am really desperate I will add a package of hot chocolate to my coffee just to drink it. I find coffee bitter and the additives of sweetness makes it yummy and yeah I do like the kick it brings after a cup or five. Plain coffee is repulsive to me. Hopped up coffee drinks that taste like chocolate mint, or Pumpkin Spice or Caramel, well who can dislike that?

I have a friend name Dina and many of my friends know her. She is an amazing woman who, when she enters a room, can bring a smile on even the Grinch's face. Many years ago we worked together as advocates in the disability movement. I had noticed that she kept getting migraines and was in a lot of pain. I told her I had heard that the caffeine in coffee can help alleviate the pain. She had explained to me that she hated the taste of coffee. Well being the good co-worker I was, I told her I can find a way that she will drink it. She basically told me I was crazy, which I am and I ran off to find her a coffee drink that she would enjoy.

Now I also know that Dina loves chocolate so when I entered the coffee shop I got her a mocha, with extra shot of espresso and two extra shots of chocolate. Lo and behold she drank the coffee, enjoyed it and the headache began to go away. I mention this because I am the one who got my friend addicted to coffee and I am proud of it.

Coffee is a way for me to relax, unwind and if with friends sip slowly while catching up with their lives. I would rather do that with a glass of wine but people seem to frown upon this at 9 in the morning. My world revolves around coffee and if my little 4 cup brewer that my cousins Joni and Chris gave me, which by the way they had two coffee pots and never drink coffee, maybe they are not related to me. I digress, if the coffee pot ever breaks down, there would be a scream heard around the world. Then again......I would have a good excuse to drink my wine and that I do like, no creamer needed.

Writing,,,,again?

As I sit on my slightly lopsided bed, I began thinking what a friend asked me a few days ago whose name is withheld to protect the innocent. He asked me what is my passion. My passion.....I really hadn't thought about it for awhile since life has been throwing me a few curve balls the past few years. I loved working with the mentally disabled, low income branch of our population. I found out I was pretty good at it from having been there myself and well, am back there again. After a few moments of silence, my friend, whose patience level with me can be short, said your passion is writing. I looked at my phone which he had called me on like I could picture him in it. I am so glad we did not Skype the call because I turned all shades of white to bright red which really could have been the flu shot I had gotten a few hours earlier but will never know.

I have never claimed to be a writer. Most English majors could find fault the way I write. I am not "grammatically correct" nor am I often linear in my thoughts. I write like I talk. Sometimes short sentences and sometime long rambling tirades of crap. I was forced into writing by another friend sick of my story telling and basically told me to write these stories down. After a few stories and some good feedback from friends, I thought maybe I could write. For a year or so I wrote a lot of short stories about my life, some sad but many funny. I got a lot of good feedback and even was published once. Then it all stopped. Now that I think about it not only did the writing stop but so did my love of anything. I became more depressed, angry, sad, frustrated and useless. I lost my sense of humor and dwelled on the old saying "oh woe  is me"  Ok, some of my friend may say I was always like that, but they lie. Ok, they did not lie because there are periods of time I had been like that but I was most upset on losing my sense of humor.

My humor is, shall I say, a little off the wall. I was brought up in a family that was a lot off the wall and my humor came from observing things and letting my mouth open and say whatever came out. I liked my sense of humor. My sense of humor kept the depression at bay. When I felt I lost it, the depression came back in full force. I succumbed to the depression and allowed myself to wallow in doubt, fear, and anger and as we all know, that is not a way to live.

Is writing my passion? Gee, hell if I know. Right now, I  feel more in charge than I have in a long time. Will I continue to write stories of my life. Again, I am not sure but if it makes me feel like I do this moment, it would be a good choice.

So thank you Jorge ( shoot, sorry kiddo) for the call and the talk. Writing this short bit is making my day feel better. Well it was either the writing or the darn good oatmeal I made with my coffee that is keeping a smile on my face. So I guess my question is.....Should I continue to write or not. Truth is, I just want to see who answers the question.  My answer is yes, do I hear another?