I like coffee

I used to hate coffee. It's bad for you. It's an addiction. It tastes gross. All around liquid Satan. I used to laugh at Debra for drinking it every morning and I would scorn her impassioned missives about the romantic bliss of curling up with a hot mug of dark coffee on a bright morning.

Now I'm hooked. And the curling tendrils of steam, the heady aroma, the arrhythmic *prk prk prk* of the coffee maker are so poetic to me that I feel compelled to blog about it! I like it dark. Darker than my car's oil after 8 months of neglect. Half and half won't cut it for me. I want heavy whipping cream. And no boring white sugar for me. Make it brown sugar, but not too much.

I was always a morning person. But now I'm a morning zombie, staggering about until I can sip off the top two inches of sludgy liquid joy. So... Have I sold out to the evil one? Mmmmmm..... probably.