COFFEE (revised "My Cuppa")

COFFEE

by Danyelle Dunavold

Morning. 

Coffee. 

Serious coffee. 

I'm not messing around. 

No Folger's trying to be fancy by calling itself Costa Rican blend. 

No way. 

I'm talking Pike's Place blend. 

I'm talking French Roast. 

Give me Starbucks. 

Bold coffee. 

I don't care if it's over roasted. 

I don’t care if they've put some magical substance in it to make me crazy addicted. 

I love it. 

One cup is all I need... want. 

And I can tell the difference.

I know. 

We’re still in a recession. 

I’m a temporary teacher.

They don’t pay us year round and I’m supposed save my money for summer, blah blah blah...

I'm supposed to be ok with generic labels and Folgers. 

But I'm not. 

I can't take it. 

I just won't drink it. 

I tried. I tell you. I tried.

At least I'm buying my ten dollar bag of coffee 

and making it at home on my supersonic-smarter-than-me- “I-can-grind-the-coffee-and-do-your-taxes” -machine that I bought at Kohl’s on sale with a 75% off coupon and Kohls Kash. 

That's recession-y, isn't it?

And then there is the creamer. 

I can't do sugar and milk. 

No. 

It's gotta be french-vanilla-full-on-fatty-sugary-fakey-goodness! 

NO WAY to the fat free crap. 

I just can't take it.

The morning can be hard enough just waking up. 

But give me Folger's-fake-lable-costa-rican-blend-with-sugar-free-fat-free-coffee-mate and I am a roaring b*tch in my head all day. 

This means I may be smiling at you, 

but that glimmer in my eye 

is not some special hidden joy, 

but rather 

a deepening 

only-child-I-didn't-get-what-I-want 

RAGE

and 

I'd 

advise you 

to back 

the f**k 

off.

But not today. 

Today I'm smiling satisfactorily knowing that I have my perfect cuppa at an easy reach. 

I can handle anything. 

I can host a friggin United Nations Summit if you asked me. 

I believe it's 

MAGIC.