by N. A. Green

Created on: December 02, 2008

Coffee. Java. Cup o' Joe. Espresso. Whatever you choose to call it, there's no denying this steamy little beverage is addictive.

Some would argue that the caffeine content of a cup of coffee is what makes it addictive, and while there may be scientific evidence to back that theory up, I tend to argue the contrary.

You see, I'm hooked on decaffeinated coffee. I know that even a cup of decaf can contain some caffeine (which seems a bit silly to still call it decaf, doesn't it?), but my theory of the enslaving nature of the beast that is the Almighty Java has less to do with its chemical makeup and more to do with the ritual of it.

I wake up a 5:30 A.M. every morning, and every morning after feeding my three screeching, milling felines I stumble sleepily toward my coffee pot. I pull out my sugar, my creamer of choice, and then finally, that magical green container from my freezer that is my beloved coffee. Once I open the lid, the magnificent aroma floats up to meet my nostrils, and I feel just a little more awake than I did before the scent hit me. I scoop out the proper amount into the filter, add the water, and press the switch. I shuffle off to take care of more mundane morning tasks all the while listening to the machine sputter and spurt to life, signaling to me that it is doing its job. As I go about my business and the coffee begins to drip down into the carafe, my senses are even more awakened by the rich, wonderful smell that wafts through my kitchen. I make my way back to the pot, watching the liquid drip, impatiently waiting for the moment when there's enough to fill one mug. As that moment approaches, I grab my cup and prepare the cream and sugar. The type of cream depends on the time of year, really. I relish going to the grocery store and buying the flavor that, to me, coincides with the season. In the summer, it's coconut cream. In the fall, pumpkin spice and in the winter, peppermint mocha or gingerbread. With my cream and sugar mixed just right, I am finally ready to pour my coffee.

I reach for the carafe and take my time, letting the hot, dark liquid fill up my mug. I savor the fragrance of it, inhaling deeply. As I put the carafe back into its place, I wrap my hands around the mug with a smile. I raise the cup to my lips and taste my concoction; ensuring that my blend of sugar and cream are just right. Satisfied with the drink, I pad to my sun room and slide into my computer chair, coffee in hand and go about my morning e-mail routine. As my husband

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>