I even break non-New Year's resolutions

Yesterday, I unintentionally ingested caffeine, breaking my nine-day caffeine-free streak. Cutting caffeine out of my life was not a New Year's resolution, despite the fact the two coincided nicely; instead, it all happened because I picked up a cough the Wednesday before New Year's.

My MO the moment I realize I'm sick is to immediately cut out as much milk and dairy products from my diet as possible, to reduce phlegm. This means no cereal for breakfast, not ice cream in the evenings...and no creamer in coffee. And, since I need flavored creamer to make my coffee drinkable, the logical conclusion is no coffee. But this leaves me with the question of how to get the caffeine that I need.

For a day or two, I tried drinking black tea, and it worked to a degree, but I was still left with headaches in the afternoon. While visiting friends over the weekend, I gave up and drank coffee in the mornings, partially because it was already made and partially because I was tired of my head hurting all afternoon and evening. To make the best of a bad situation, I limited myself to less than half a cup, reasoning that such a small amount of cream wouldn't be detrimental to my throat and cough. I was delighted to find that, somehow, a quarter cup of coffee was all the caffeine I required for those days. The headaches hadn't been pointless pain after all.

On January 2, I decided to take a risk. I had been drinking so little caffeine lately; what would happen if I just didn't have any that day? A little concerned about the four-hour drive home from my friends' house ahead of me, I reassured myself that I could always stop somewhere and grab a latte or coffee someplace if needed.

I cherished a sense of accomplishment that night as I lay in bed and claimed my first completely caffeine-free, headache-free day in years.

For the next week, I stayed strong, resisting the chuckling coffee pot in our kitchen as it brewed for my roommates and the swirl and grind of the espresso machines at work. I stayed away from black and green teas (that wasn't hard, as a matter of fact. I much prefer herbal teas anyway), and I did not even have a sip of my favorite drink of hot apple juice and chai. Yesterday, with my stomach grumbling in the middle of the afternoon, I thought I would have a tiny, decaf, pumpkin spice latte, the only latte I will willingly drink, to tide me over until dinner. It was only as I finished the last bit of the 8 ounce drink that I remembered I had automatically pushed the button for regular espresso instead of decaf. My streak was ended.

But a new one starts today.

And that cough I gave up dairy for?
It turned into pneumonia.
But at least I know I tried.

There's just something about tea

"I'll have a medium coffee with room for cream," he said, and I thought, He must be a serious business man, as I filled the cup.

"I'll have a large caramel latte with two extra shots," he said, and I thought, Someone must have had a late night, as the milk frothed.

"I'll have a double espresso," he said, and I thought, I'll bet he lifts for fun, as the grinder whirred.

"I'll have an Earl Grey tea," he said, and I thought...Tea is mysterious. A man that orders tea catches your attention. 

And then I spilled hot water across my hand.

I don't actually watch the show.
I just really appreciated this.

Tidbits

I giggled a bit when I realized that this song was playing at work today:

Also, I find it a little unnerving when drive through customers greet me by name. It's true that I have just introduced myself to them, but I never expect them to reply with a, "Hello, Bonnie! I'd like--" It's alright when a regular does it, someone like Kim or Jim or Mary, because I've actually had conversations with them. But when a random stranger (that I usually can't even see) addresses me personally, I don't know how to take it.

A stunning--

This Monday morning was quite splendid, despite the fact that I was up two hours past my bed time the night before and opened at five thirty today. When we arrived at the coffee shop, everything outside was completely dark and clear, the solitary cars driving by on the street plainly visible. Within an hour, though, thick, dense fog invaded from the river, capturing all of the headlights. We couldn't see the first row of cars in the parking lot through the windows. 

But when the sun exploded above the opposing hill, the battle between the fog of predawn and the light of day began. It looked like a softer version of Sauron's, a far away orb casting its sight across the land, searching. The grey fog turned gold where the light soaked it, but remained silver-cold in the shadows. Slowly, the sun forced the two shades to meld, forming a soft mother-of-pearl color fog that clung to the grass and buildings by its fingertips, refusing to admit defeat. It hid behind cars and under trees, but in the end, the fog was vanquished and slunk back down to the cold river. 

That may have perhaps been a bit of a dramatized version of the morning, but I was stunned when the first few gleaming rays shot into my eyes. 

And speaking of stunning, I fell out of bed last night for the first time in many years. Granted, I was trying to climb down from my top bunk, but it was still a shock. This is my souvenir:

Pretty, ain't?

Rainy tidbits

I don't mind rainy days (as long as no plans have to be cancelled), so I pleased to see a persistent drizzle when I woke up early this morning. I was also pleasantly surprised to discover that my windshield wipers actually work quite fine. I thought I was going to have to replace them, so that's twenty dollars saved.

I didn't so this. It was too cold at 5:00am.

Most of the customers this morning were good sports about the dampness, pulling up close to the window and trying to stay inside their cars as much as possible. Occasionally, I wished someone, "Stay dry!" as a farewell when the sprinkle changed to a downpour. The rain made the inside of the coffee shop cozy today, as a contrast to the shop's warm smells and soft orange lights, but I wouldn't have turned down a little more driving. Driving in the rain is always soothing to me.

And I also appreciate driving in the dark. I've discovered on my many early mornings when I open or my late nights when I close that I drive slower when it's dark. Generally, I make no conscious decision to; everything just seems a tad less rushed, and sometimes I have to remind myself that I do indeed need to keep up with the speed limit.

This morning, I left my apartment a few minutes later than usual, because I often turn up to the coffee shop ten minutes before I need to be there. This isn't necessarily a bad thing; I just thought I'd take a few minutes longer getting started today. However, as I drove down the streets, I found myself missing watching the people waiting for the bus. It's nice to know that I'm not the only one who has to be up and headed to work. Tomorrow, I think I'll have to go back to my original scheduling. Bus-waiters aren't exactly the same thing as regulars at the coffee shop, but I am starting to recognize some of them.

That time I worked early

People are strange, and this is what makes people watching so interesting. I went to a soccer game last night, and half the time I got distracted by the people in the stands. At work, it's quite entertaining to see who comes through. The other day, there was the guy who winked at me as he drove away from the drive through, and many people call me "Honey" when I work the drive through. Apparently I sound and look quite young. Today, some guy told me I was awesome as I handed him his drink; that probably was intended for the whole store though.

And then, of course, there's me. I often respond to the question of "How are you?" that the customer didn't actually ask; I just assumed that they would. And I mix up my words and say silly things all the time, like when I tell people to have a good day and try to send them off before I passed them their beverages. These things happen more often than I'd like to admit.

This morning, though, something happened that had never happened before. Around six thirty, a woman came to the speaker and ordered her drinks and a breakfast sandwich. She drove around to the window, and I greeted her and swiped her credit card. I turned around to take her sandwich out of the oven, and S., who was on bar at that time, said, "Wait, where did they go?"

What?

There was no car at the window anymore. She had paid, but then left. S. and I looked at each other for a moment, wondering what to do, but then we heard the Ding that signaled a car at the order speaker. Before we could say any greeting, they came right past it to the window. The woman from the previous order looked out up at me and said, "Did you see how I just drove off like that? I must really need that coffee!"

Just an ordinary day

This morning was the first time that I drank my own coffee. As one of the benefits of working at the coffee shop, I get a free pound of coffee a week. However, I haven't needed it since I started working, because my parents' house was always fully stocked. Therefore, I have been giving it away each week, sometimes to friends, sometimes to old professors. Last Friday, though, I moved out of my parents' house into an apartment with a few girls. I'm now all grown up! And this morning, I drank coffee made from this week's pound of coffee for the first time. I think I can get used to this.

I would consider buying this

At work today, I was on the espresso bar, meaning that it was my job to make all of the drinks that came through the shop. If there are lots of drinks at once and other baristas aren't busy, they usually take the cold drinks, the ice teas and blended drinks, and make them, leaving the bar barista only the espresso drinks to worry about. But at multiple times during the day, there were only three of us on the floor, one to tend to the customers inside the cafe, one to work the drive through, and one to make drinks. The line of drinks got longer and longer, and as I raced from first the espresso bar to the blenders and back again, I realized that I did not like the feeling that no matter how fast I worked, it wouldn't make a difference.

Eventually we pulled through. Several gallons of milk later, we three all looked at each other and took a breath, enjoying the silence of the drive through and the absence of waiting customers inside. I tried to calm down, because rushes and business and the awful feeling to being behind stresses me out.

And then I had a revelation: being on bar is great, but it is not perfect. As the bar barista, time seems to go fast, and I do not (usually) have to deal with difficult customers. All I have to focus on is the next drink in line. But not dealing with customers means that I am free to be annoyed every time a new car pulls up to the drive through and orders a blended drink (they seem particularly time-consuming to make. Having to interact with people limits how frustrated you can get, because above everything, you cannot show any frustration. It is much more difficult to keep a bad mood when you have to pretend that you're in a good mood for other people. If only there was a way to be on bar until I began to get angry, at which point I would switch to taking orders. It might be counter-intuitive, but I think it would work