I've always hated coffee. I hate the smell and the taste. The bitterness. A couple times, while struggling with excessive daytime sleepiness, I've tried mochas in an attempt to wake up. I find mocha more palatable than regular coffee, especially after I've added quite a bit of sugar ;-) But it never seemed to wake me up, so I gave up on coffee.
While I was living with Corrado and Kasia, they offered me espresso a few times, and eventually, I decided to try it (granted, with lots of sugar added). I didn't really notice a strong effect, but it was a nice ritual to share with friends, like a cup of tea or a pint.
One day soon after, a girl at work invited me to grab coffee at Wellington's (purportedly some of the best coffee in Edinburgh). I've felt on top of the world for about 45min afterwards, and then felt queasy and jittery for the next 45min. Hm, slightly terrifying, but completely predictable, I suppose.
Then a couple weeks ago, I was super cranky at work. The first four hours of the day draaaaaaagged, and I could hardly believe that I was only halfway done. Corrado suggested coffee, so I grabbed a mocha from Wellington during lunch. I also treated myself to fries :-) For the remainder of the working day, I was cheerful and friendly and helpful. I was a new woman. A woman who enjoys, and possibly even needs coffee. It's only a matter of time before I'm fully addicted, spending 10% of my meager income on coffee.
So now, here I sit, in an internet cafe, working on my project with a coffee in front of me because I was feeling sleepy and losing concentration at home. Seriously, the last thing I need in my life is another useless substance to waste my money on. Sigh. It's all downhill from here. I'd feel worse about it, if the coffee didn't make me feel so goooood...