it's over. move to somnia.

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'Bucked-Up

Coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee. Coffee coffee coffee. My life in a nutshell.

Huh? Wha? I'm not a coffee drinker. In fact, when a classmate spilled her coffee all over the floor near me last week, I had to get up and move because the fumes were making me woozy. (True!)

But my resistance has been weakening. Yesterday on the Metro, I picked up the Washington Post and read through an entire essay* about how stressful it is to buy coffee at Starbucks because of allegiances to certain locations, the question of queues and motion, and the bewildering array of options on the menu. It was insipid, cliché, and five years too late, just as you'd expect. Later on, to recover from the midterm (midterms already!) I took that morning, I decided to go see Dirty Pretty Things.** The main character was fond of chewing on leaves (I assumed they were coca) to help him stay awake throughout his two jobs as a cabdriver and hotel concierge. Hmmm.

I haven't been up to par lately: a lot of studying, less-than-optimal nutrition, and choppy sleep. So today in class (at the ripe hour of 8 am), I found myself feeling unquestionably droopy. I turned to my roommate at the break and said--for the first time in my life--"I need coffee." Her eyes sparkled.

After being instructed in the differences between caffè latte and café au lait (foam, I guess), and a few more minutes of deliberation, I chose a mocha and headed back to class. It turns out everything I've heard is true: my head began to buzz pleasantly, my attention focused, my hand began to quiver as I quickly tapped my fingers (quietly, of course) and my bladder began working overtime. It was a rush! I'd tried to explain to one of my incredulous classmates ("Never? Oh, come on.") that I generally try to avoid things I can sense are addictive, and now...well, I want more.

It's true, then. Graduate school changes people. I didn't expect it could happen so speedily. Yipe!


*Yeah, when exactly did "the news" transmogrify from articles to essays?

** It's good. I recommend it. Your average finicky moviegoer might scoff at Audrey Tautou playing a Turkish Muslim despite her French accent. And the ending might be considered predictable or simplistic, but I liked it. The only part I found amusing was that the conversation (of immigrants from around the world in London) was about how much of a dream it would be to go to New York. OK, since you're talking about the difference in the standard of living: Calcutta to New York? Sure. London to New York? Not so much.
peachy as always, Mike at 2:26 PM