I thought I was better than you. You were weak. I was strong.
I thought I could resist. I did not.
Now, I am a coffee junkie.
No, I still don’t drink it in the morning – or malfunction until the drug hits my bloodstream. But suddenly I need a hit in the afternoon to finish some work and fight off that curry-induced narcolepsy.
Occasionally, I Amazon those Starbucks espresso cans for emergency late night productivity jolts.
Worst of all, none of it works anymore! None. Of. It. I’ve built up resistance. I could pump it in by the gallon as a colonic and at best, only make a stain.
Had a can last night – minutes before passing out, asleep.
I. Am. Weak. Addicted.
But do not pity me. I deserve your scorn.
I will continue fighting the morning habit with all my strength, for as long as I can. Not to defeat the drug, but to retain that tiny shred of superiority. Then, I can still outwardly judge you – even if secretly, I am you.