i am coffee. i own you

I am coffee, a most unrelentingly potent and seductive elixir. I have been one of mankind’s greatest possessions since at least the fourteenth century. Pope Clement VIII, sometime during either the late sixteenth or early seventeenth century, encouraged Catholics to start drinking me. Some people don’t particularly enjoy me but most people find me quite enticing. I can be drunk plain, black and unsweetened, or with milk, sugar, as well as a wide variety of other flavorings. People often enjoy me with alcoholic beverages too.  I often have a large amount of caffeine in me so many people tend to have drastic problems when they drink me. My smell is exceptionally intoxicating. I fit in equally well at all kinds of occasions, ranging from the casual to the formal, happy and sad, work and play. I’m sort of an introduction to adulthood for most people. You don’t usually see very many children or teenagers imbibing me. Some countries, such as England, prefer tea, but the people who enjoy me simply can’t get enough of me. They literally start each and every single morning of their lives with me, as if my presence is somehow unavoidably mandatory. Some people can’t handle me well. I’ve been known to give them problems ranging from headaches to insomnia. Often, though, they’re quite willing to make the sacrifice in order to enjoy me. I’m like any drug, or addictive compulsive behavior. If someone neglects to watch his step with me I can take complete control, akin to a Faustian bargain, of his life. In a way you could even say I’m sort of like a liquid Satan. I’m found everywhere. I can’t be avoided. I give all kinds of short-term enjoyment, and promise even more. There’s an inevitable catch though. I can’t be trusted.





holy cow it’s a home run!

I should suppose the biggest walk-off home run for me would be to be finally rid of all the anxiety attacks and migraines I’ve been having throughout my adult lifetime.  A lot of them came from food-mostly caffeine-allergies anyway, and most of that trouble has diminished quite significantly. My headaches are rather infrequent these days and my anxiety appears to be easily manageable. For well over the past decade, I’d gotten an insanely violent rash all over my body, with scratch marks that kept showing up in different places at different times. Oddly, I started noticing that since both my parents died last year, my rash has been entirely gone. Maybe it’s only a post hoc ergo propter hoc kind of thing but who knows?  Perhaps there’s even a connection somehow. I know perfectly well that I’m able to do anything that anyone else is capable of. I just wish, though, that I didn’t have to go through all the frustrating jitters.







sleepy time time

At least throughout my entire adult life, I’ve never been able to sleep well.   I honestly don’t think I’ve ever had a problem with voluntary sleep procrastination.    Especially when I absolutely have to be up for something important the next morning I shall do all I possibly can to get to bed as soon as possible.   Often I cheat a little by reading a bit more or hanging around without officially going to bed.   My problem with bedtime isn’t one last chore, hobby, conversation or anything like that.    It’s a major shortage of sleep.   Around here we often don’t eat until sometime after 8:00 p.m. but that’s not something I can control.     I haven’t been in the habit, over the course of the past eight months, of watching a significant amount of television, especially at night, so that can’t possibly be a problem.   I say my prayers within a reasonable length of time.    As far as I can tell, not counting uncontrollable variables, there’s nothing that can keep me from going to sleep at a significantly early hour.     My will power, at least when it comes to my reasonably strict bedtime rule, is quite exceptional.   Of course, there’s always most certainly the occasional lapse.   I may sometimes stay on my computer, my main weakness lately, for somewhat longer than I should.    Lately I’ve even been reading on it.    Fortunately, though,  that only happens quite rarely.   I simply can’t possibly emphasize this enough:  if only I could possibly get enough sleep once I’ve already gone to bed I should be so deliriously happy.    Sleep procrastination, however, most certainly isn’t any kind of a problem for me.   Just give me a bed, and peace and quiet, and I don’t ever postpone my bedtime, especially since I know that staying up can lead to headaches and grogginess the next day.







blood drive

Today I went to a blood drive at the Allegria Hotel at 80 West Broadway in Long Beach.   It was quite a nice time.   The only somewhat annoying problem was that as always I was forced to walk for about a mile and two fifths to get there.   That’s because I still don’t have car insurance.    It was on the roof of the building.  I made sure I explained all my circumstances, answered the questions on the computer and lay down on the chair to get it all over with.   No one passed any remarks, to my surprise, about my Pennsylvania identification.    A couple of employees asked if I lived locally, or was visiting  the hotel, though.    That could have gotten weird because I claimed to live only a short distance away.   Two of the blood drive employees were most certainly quite the exceptionally nice lookers.     One of the lookers, the blondie, asked specifically how I felt after it was all over with.   I made sure I told her that, as always, I didn’t have any kind of problem right then and there.   Then I told her, though, that for as far back as I can remember I always seem to get an exceptionally violent headache the day after a blood donation, and that  I really wanted to know why.   When I worked at Citicorp Retail Services, my supervisor, Carole, used always to wblood1-300x259hine at me because she could never help noticing a very definite problem with that.    The phlebotomist explained that it was most probably from dehydration.   She warned me that I should drink quite a lot more fluids from now on after each donation.   This may not have been quite such an exceptionally significant decision but I’m most certainly hoping that it can help me avoid any unnecessary further trouble.   It’s absolutely an undeniably important decision in the sense that nobody likes migraines and that provoking one unnecessarily isn’t very bright.




Around the end of October I got my flu shot at the CVS at the Wyoming Avenue Midway in Wyoming. The pharmacist who gave me the shot was quite a really nice blondie, a really nice looker named Caitlin. It only took a few minutes with a little paperwork to fill out. I got it in my left shoulder. All went well. A few days later, though, I started getting really violent headaches on one side of my head. They lasted for about six days. It was during the time of the annual St. Jude novena at O.L. Eucharist Parish in Pittston Junction. I showed up for most nights of the novena in spite of all the pain & aggravation. The novena worked out really well. All the same people show up each year so I see many familiar faces.   The weather was really nice most nights.    It was the fifty fifth year of the novena.     When I went back to the drug store a few days ago to get something I asked the pharmacist about my headaches & she said there didn’t seem to be any connection to the shot. She assumed it must be from either sinus or an allergy. That’s what I’ve always assumed too.