I am on to my third cup of coffee within the past two hours. I really should be doing some serious technical stuff. Instead, I have this blog window open, and I can't resist the temptation to blog.
There is something about coffee that sets off a certain rush. Suddenly, writing seems a lot more pleasant. The thought process may not be clear, and may even be prone to rambling, but the translation from thought bubbles to keyboard seems a lot easier.
Ironically, it wasn't in the newsroom that I developed this addiction for coffee. I was perfectly fine with watching beat reporters alternately churning out their daily requisite column inches and downing steaming mugfuls. Besides, since I worked in the Sunday section, I wasn't always in a rush anyway.
But when I moved from writing for a weekly to a monthly, my latent craving for caffeine surfaced. My "seatmate" Arni made the perfect brew, and--with the heady aroma wafting through those modular cubicles--I was hooked. Coffee actually took on a more social aspect and it figured pretty much in every swinging single thing: last-full shows, dinners, quiet conversations, rowdy after-office bonding, Saturday-night hangovers.
Although I have since traded the publication for the bureaucracy, I still get my kick from coffee. Attacking the paperwork is a breeze, and there's nothing like the smell of a fresh cup to get me on track.
And so, enough of this rambling and on to the task at hand...