The Terrible Blow to my Self-Image

Something awful has happened recently, ladies and gentlemen.  It’s… hard for me to talk about, but I think that we’ve gotten to that point.  The fact of the matter is…

I’ve realized that I can’t drink coffee anymore.

I don’t know what it is.  I’m not lactose intolerant.  I have no problem with sugar.  I’ve tried changing what I add or don’t add.  And all I’m left with is the horrible, bald-faced truth–my body just does not like coffee.

You can imagine what a blow this has been.  I mean, I’m a self-professed tea addict, of course.  I’ve always preferred tea to coffee.  I didn’t even like coffee for years and years–it was a taste I acquired with hard work, as well as adding enough milk and sugar to kill a small rhinoceros.  It’s really hardly coffee any more at all.  (And I usually get Chai Tea Lattes when I go to Starbucks.)

But that’s not the point!

The point is that my stomach is a horrible, terrible traitor.  I’m not, like, deathly allergic to coffee or anything, so I suppose I can still have it if I’m desperate…. But caffeine has never been why I drank coffee.  I don’t need it to start my day or wake up my brain.  (Actually, caffeine makes me sleepy.)

I like it because of the image I associate with it.  You know, kind of like why people used to smoke.  (Which is dumb, I know.)  It’s all about how I see coffee, and how I see myself.  You always hear writerly people talk about how much they love their coffee–how they can’t do without that fix in the morning.  People, beautiful people, quirky people, book people, are always described as drinking coffee.  Coffee, horrid thing that it is, is part of the self-image I have dreamt up for myself.

Or it was, until my body decided to rebel.  Now I feel like I’ve lost a bit of that me that I always strived for.  The one that will someday be able to garden, cook and clean.  That will wake up early and go for a run, then settle down, write for awhile, then go do errands.  (When I imagine myself as the Perfect Self, I usually imagine Nora Roberts characters.)

Is this post silly?  Yes, it really, really is.  But I had to get that off my chest.  I really am bummed that coffee hates me.  But maybe this is a good thing.  I won’t have to worry about coffee stains on my teeth, for example.  So maybe I’ll adjust.

What about you?

Do you ever see yourself in a certain way, different from how you really are?  Do you have a perfect vision of yourself?  Or do you really love/hate coffee?  Did you get a haircut?  LEMME KNOW.

Celeste

((Also, happy April!  This is not an April Fools post. xD  Although I suppose the lackadaisical subject matter is appropriate.))

Alas, poor coffee. I knew him well.

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9 thoughts on “The Terrible Blow to my Self-Image

  1. I actually don’t like the taste of coffee very much but I can’t help but drink it anyway. I totally agree with the image surrounding drinking coffee maybe that’s why I drink it because it makes me feel like a true part of the writers circle or like a “real” adult I don’t know. I haven’t had a haircut recently by the way ha ha ha

  2. Hey! I genuinely feel for you here. I had to stop drinking coffee (and tea!) in February for a wacky diet I was on, and—I mean, it was kind of awesome to be able to get up and go in the morning without that cuppa, and when I got to where I was going I didn’t have to pee three times in the first hour, which was another plus—but I missed that ritual BAD. And more than the ritual of the coffee itself, I missed the image of myself as someone who is capable of having three cups of strong dark coffee in the morning, and the persona of the coffee-fueled writer/creative scribbling away at their work.
    I’m back on the coffee train now, because I think my body can handle it pretty okay, but mostly because I missed being that person who drinks coffee. I AM trying to cut back, now that I know I can. Good luck on adjusting to your coffee-free new image!

    P.S. Kaffree Roma is a product you might find helpful—it’s a coffee substitute made of chicory root. I like it because it tastes like Nescafe, which is the coffee substitute they kept serving us in Thailand (even though real Thai coffee is divine). In my case it felt just enough like coffee to get me craving the real thing again, but maybe you’d like it. I use it in the afternoons now, as sort of an in-between between coffee and decaf tea.

    • That’s very encouraging, thank you. 🙂 I’m glad people don’t just think I’m crazy when I talk about image via coffee. xD; Apparently that idea is alive and well in the minds of many writer-types. I mean, there’s also drunk writers, but that’s not really the idea I’m going for. 😛 The not having to pee constantly thing probably WAS a bonus, ha ha! 🙂 Thanks for the good luck, and good luck to YOU on cutting back. Too much of anything, you know.
      Kaffree Roma? I might look into it. I don’t think I’ve ever had chicory, but it sounds intriguing. Where do you get it? Just at like, the grocery store? Thanks for suggesting it! =D

  3. I shall tell you my coffee-hates-me story, that you might feel better about your own coffee-deprived state. It all began in second year university. Heading into exam time, my mother sent me an email insisting that students performed better on tests when they had a cup of coffee half an hour before said exam. Huh, I said to myself. I don’t really like coffee, but if it will make me do better, I’ll give it a try. And thus began my failed affair with coffee. Every time I had coffee, my stomach would start to hurt approximately an hour later — but then, my stomach often hurts, so I thought nothing of it. When I finally connected coffee as being the culprit — this occurred halfway through my Comparative Literature exam, when my stomach made unpleasant gurgling sounds through the whole exam — I switched to espresso, on my mother’s suggestion that it was the sugar/milk giving me trouble. I’m sure you can guess what happened next. More stomach woes, more gurgling, more unhappiness. CURSES! I shouted to the sky. BODY, WHY MUST YOU FORSAKE ME? But alas, it was not to be. Coffee and I are no longer friends, and while I do see those beautiful hipsters in Starbucks and envy them their steaming mochas and cappucinos, I have come to terms with my coffee-less fate. And you will to, my friend. Never give up! Never surrender!

    • xD ❤ I was laughing aloud through most of that, but I guess it did what it was supposed to do, which was cheer me up. 🙂 I'm sorry about that though. You said you can't drink tea either, right? Is it the caffeine then? Because that sounds pretty similar to my problem, although I can drink tea with no problem at all. (Which I guess is the better of the two, since I don't know what I would do if I couldn't have my mountainous collection of teas.) (Also, I hate espresso. Blegh.) xDD Failed affair with coffee… Ha ha. Anyway, that's pretty much what I did. I've been trying to ignore it for awhile now, but I just can't keep doing that to myself, so I figured it was time to face facts. DAMN THOSE WONDERFUL HIPSTERS. I love mochas. ;( (And the peppermint creamer/hot chocolate coffee concoction I invented…) But this too shall pass. Thank you.

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