Coffee

This post is about coffee and why I do not drink it.

I do not drink coffee.  It is not because I do not want to, it is just that I cannot.  I have tried, on numerous occasions and failed to enjoy the caffeine running in my veins (if that is what happens to caffeine when it is ingested). 

Hopping on the coffee-lover wagon is not as easy as it looks, especially for rookies.  Believe me, the "grab a hot cup of java (or three) and Instagram it with an iPhone, uber-hipster, awkward adult person, halfway to Yuppie" subculture is enticing, really; I would like to buy into that.  But this antagonistic relationship with coffee dates back to my early days, as a preschooler.

I hate to blame my parents for everything wrong in my life, but they are the reason why I am the girl who orders rooibos tea without milk.  It is quite simple (take notes because this will be helpful when you have a child one day) if you feed your toddler Milo enough times, eventually when they encounter coffee or caffeinated tea, they will refuse it... because when you are five years old, Milo kicks hot-beverage ass.  This is why it has been so easy for me to abstain from coffee, that and all the other times I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience whenever I had drunk coffee.

In my experience, drinking coffee is not the problem, it is the two hours after consumption that weird me out a little. I start feeling like a rabid squirrel. Restless and edgy, everything becomes warm, but not mildly; extremely warm, hot like my face wants to melt off.  And then the unexplainable thirst, like the guy in the Ingram's advertisement, stranded in the desert.  Only no matter how much water I drink, it is never enough to extinguish the lava in my belly! (Okay, that was just a metaphor to explain my discomfort).

Then again, I may be drinking it wrong (which could be a contributing factor to why I have not been able to become acclimated with the task).  Whenever I drink hot beverages like coffee or tea, I never add sugar.  Sugar drowns out the taste and I lose the essence of the coffee.  I do not find the taste ghastly either, I prefer to taste my coffee for what it is than have it smothered with an unnecessary ingredient (besides if it was meant to taste sweet, it would have, or maybe I am just thinking about this too seriously and starting to evaluate coffee the way I evaluate humans).

However, I have tried decaf and it was quite pleasant.  In fact I could drink that daily; although, it probably defeats the purpose of coffee (Can you see how I am not even rookie-enough for this?). 

Never mind-  this attempt to convince myself that my reasons for not drinking coffee are valid has been fruitless.  I will stick to the rooibos; I will probably live longer too.   

Growing Pains

“Who of you have seriously misguided misconceptions of making millions?” Those were the first words I heard for one of my lectures.  At the time I did not understand the magnitude of what that meant.  One year later I was having a conversation with a classmate about our plans for the uncertain future.  We discussed jobs that did not pay but which we would prefer.  By the end of it, I could not agree that we would spend the rest of our lives working towards making millions and settling down.  “That can’t be it.  There must be more.”  He looked at me like I was confused, “What do you mean? That is it.”  I realized two things that day; that guy had seriously misguided misconceptions of making millions and secondly, I had seriously misguided misconceptions of life and people.

We are about to graduate for the second time, which means we are obligated to find jobs.  (Actually, I may be the only one who feels obligated, the rest of my classmates are ready to hop on the hamster wheel and chase those illusive millions I keep hearing about).   I do not have regrets about my time at varsity.  Even though I was the most boring first year; I did not get drunk and puke over a toilet bowl, I did not meet a gorgeous foreign student and have a fleeting affair with him, I never went shopping with my gay best friend (still looking for him though), I was too scared to eat space cookie and rightfully so and I did not unravel and come back home with new piercings or tattoos; these are things I am certain I can go through life without having done.  I am still pretty boring, but I maintain that despite that, I have a degree.  The only thing I really do regret; is that I did not dropout and become the mastermind behind an innovation that changed the world like Steve Jobs or Mark Zuckerberg.  Although, I dropped out of law school (so I accomplished one half of that idea). 

Growing up is painful, my face pulls to the side just thinking about having to pay bills.  Bills are for people who have houses with children to take care.  I am too young for financial responsibilities, the only thing I should be worried about is my education, and my health so that I can enjoy my education (This is what I meant when I said I had misguided misconceptions).  I am not from the city, so if I get a job in the city, unlike my colleagues still living at home with their parents, I have to think about inconvenient adult things like paying rent and finding a reliable housemate to help me pay rent.   Rent; if my bank account had bowels, they would collapse.   We have all watched some version of La Boheme, and even though living like a broke artist seems adventurous and good for character development, I do not think my stomach is cut for dry bread and water… I cannot even sing, so those epic montages are not happening.  Then there is the budget I will have to draw up and organize my life around to make sure I stick to it.  I do not even know if that is possible.  The last time I drew up a budget, it was for an assignment, and I did not have much faith in the hypothetical company’s spending either.   

And the dreaded job-hunt.  One thing I have learned from interviews; if the interviewer uses the words, “You are a really pretty girl, with a bright future ahead of you,” it means you did not get the job and you are not that pretty (they were just being polite about rejecting you).  Also, smart casual means you need to wear a suit and tie (I know, I also thought formal meant suit and tie).  I hate motivation letters; writing about yourself is the hardest thing to do.  How do you say, “You should employ me because I’m awesome,” without sounding like a douche?  Then there are all those questions, like “Give an example of a time you persevered.”  How about this job application?  It is so darn long; you need to take bathroom breaks while completing it.  Or how about, “Why did you apply for this position?”  I do not know, is it okay if I say, “I want to keep my options open because I don’t want to be unemployed next year”?  I think that answer is reasonable enough and they should be grateful because that is probably the only honest response they will ever read.  I should be rewarded for telling the truth and they should show me their appreciation by employing me (Again, misguided misconceptions).

Reading rejections are not fun either.  They tell you how good you are and how you failed at being excellent.  (I have an entire folder in my email account reserved for rejections).  And what tough skin should I develop?  Quite frankly I am just pissed off.  I took the time and effort to answer those ridiculous questions; I think I deserve a good explanation, not some generic response.  Or how about those companies who do not have the decency to contact you to say that you suck as a prospective employee.  It is like finding out you got dumped, six months ago. 

Oh, and my parents are just ecstatic about the prospect of a child who will finally be moving out the house.  They are even making plans to break down my room and extend the house.   I was talking to my dad and we discussed his expectations for my salary.  He was quite perturbed to find that the options did not look very optimistic.  There were looks of despair and sighs.  It is a shame really, they invested so much and they will not be seeing any of those returns soon (Just do not have children; it will save you from so much disappointment).  Also, my parents may have just realized that they have seriously misguided misconceptions about my future.

And here is the scariest thing I discovered about being an adult- all those plans we made when we were younger; to go back-packing in Europe, teach English in Korea, donate a kidney to someone who needs it; all those plans are supposed to happen now.  This is the time for it, our roaring 20’s.  For the first time you will truly be responsible for making your own happiness and the only person who would disappoint you, is you. 

 Thinking like an adult is burdensome, but it is upon us. (In all fairness, we have had over 20 years to prepare for the battle field).   My mind is a warzone, there are so many options and choosing the wrong one would be like stepping on a landmine.  I keep telling myself to embrace it, all these responsibilities that make my life difficult, because in 25 years I would probably want to be where I am right now, in this moment, confused and on the brink of glory.