In this column, Alexander Marks McLeod will spill the beans on his caffeine addiction and why it’s a relationship that’s stronger than any cup of coffee.
Dear readers,
As I sit here, sipping my fourth cup of coffee, I can’t help but wonder – when did I become a caffeine addict? Was it when I started drinking coffee at age 12? Or was it when I discovered espresso shots at university and thought, “Hey, why drink one cup when you can have six?”
I don’t like calling it an addiction. I prefer the term dedication. I mean sure, I would probably sell my soul for a cup of coffee in the morning. Or at least my first-born child. Kidding. Sort of.
Either way, I now find myself unable to function without my morning dose of caffeine. I mean, how else am I supposed to face the day? Without coffee, I’d just be a zombie stumbling around, muttering incoherently and scaring small children.
But let’s be honest, coffee isn’t just a necessity for me. It’s a lifestyle. I have a whole ritual around my coffee drinking – I need my special mug (NSFW*), the right amount of cream and sugar, and the perfect spot on the sofa to enjoy it. And the coffee shop experience is a whole different ball game. The smell of freshly brewed coffee, the cosy atmosphere, and the judgemental stares from the baristas when I can’t decide between a latte or a cappuccino – it's all part of the fun.
My love for caffeine has also resulted in some interesting fashion choices. I’ve spilt more coffee on myself than I care to admit, but I’ve also used the stains to create a unique tie-dye effect on my shirts.
But the real question is, how much caffeine is too much? Is it when you start seeing sounds or when your eyes start twitching uncontrollably? Or is it when you’re writing about it in a magazine column? Asking for a friend.
But hey, nobody said loving caffeine was easy. So, let’s raise our cups of coffee (or tea, or energy drink, or whatever your preferred caffeine fix is) and salute our dedication.
Yours in caffeine-induced delirium,
Alexander.
*It is a mug which proudly says, “I love c*ck”, a present from my girlfriend. She insisted I said that.
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