in another life: rituals

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My husband is not a coffee drinker. It is, thanks to him, that I no longer drink caffeine–I fell so quickly and madly in love with him when we first met that my entire life’s routines were disrupted. Including my morning coffee routine. I forgot to drink coffee. Because we spent every.minute.together. We would wake up and even decide to miss work so that we could spend more time together! (It all worked out in the end, we both eventually started going to work more regularly).

I had headaches everyday, but nevermind! I was in love! But man, love came with a headache! It wasn’t until the headaches lifted a couple months later that I realized I had gone through some severe caffeine withdrawal.

I’ve searched far and wide for a perfect cup of decaf coffee–I may not drink caffeinated coffee anymore, but I’m still a coffee snob! When I discovered Blue Bottle Coffee from a friend, I was elated. “What IS this?!” I exclaimed. She told me it was Blue Bottle Decaf. I immediately ordered some online.

It is part of my writing ritual to brew myself a cup of this coffee. I write in the mornings (when I can), and so it has become a part of my morning ritual as well.

This morning…it is foggy, in the way that it becomes foggy in the late summertime here in SF/Berkeley. The sun has just broken through, casting a flourescent light, but as I began the cup of coffee, the world was enveloped in a cold and tingling fog. Have I told you how much I love fog? I’ve loved the notion of fog ever since I read “Long Day’s Journey Into Night” and when I moved up to San Francisco/Berkeley, I really fell in love with it.

I don’t see it as gloomy at all, but romantic and quiet and comforting. Kind of like my husband.

My fondest coffee drinking moments are associated with fog–getting up in the City to a mug of coffee made for me, sipping it with stale toasted bread in the Haight, or in my Berkeley apartments my toes combing the 1970s era shag carpet. I didn’t go to college in the 1970s, that’s just how old the carpet in these apartments happened to be. It is a very meditative time, this drinking of coffee.

And today–for a moment, I wished my husband were a coffee drinker too, so that I could share this sensation with him. For this whole coffee thing–it’s a solitary thing for me, precious and holy as solitary things can be…but once in awhile, I’d like to share it with someone.

And. I’m pondering going back to caffeinated coffee.

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5 Comments

Filed under Life, Memories

5 responses to “in another life: rituals

  1. w

    I’m so going to order their coffee. Thanks!

    My boy’s IM to me this morning:

    J: Your cousin works at Starbucks . . . you like independent cafes . . . I like coffee . . . See where I’m going with this?

    Seriously: It’s my dream to run a bookstore cafe.

  2. ha ha. I drink coffee every morning and I live in San Francisco. Seriously, I know what you mean.

  3. I live right under the fog line.

  4. I can’t live without coffee. I don’t know if I could transition to decaf coffee.

    One of my favorite part-time jobs was being a Starbucks barista. I loved the smell of espresso beans grinding. Good times.

  5. w: blue bottle coffee rocks! i hope you enjoy it. (i’ve always wanted to run a bookstore cafe, too).

    wildguppy: yah i know, you never get sun in your hood!

    queenkv: getting off the coffee is tough. i used to drink coffee ALL day long and i still LOVE the taste of coffee.

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