I'm supposed to like coffee. I'm supposed to use my fanny programmable coffee maker to make it fresh every morning for when I wake up at oh-my-god-this-is-sooooo-early-o'clock. I'm supposed to sip it on the bus and arrive to work feeling alive, awake, alert and enthusiastic. I'm a surgeon, for crying out loud. I should bleed coffee.
I made coffee every day for orientation and tried really hard to like it. But as I added more and more cream and sugar, and peeked inside the lid to see how much more I had to drink, it hit me- I don't like coffee. I like Diet Coke.
So as I prepare for my first day of internship, the dreaded "July 1", I plan on braving the day without this mysterious "caffeine", whose effects I am apparently immune to. I'll throw a Diet coke in my locker. Maybe I'll change my mind when its 11am and I've already been awake for 7 hours. But I'm freeing myself of the expectation that I need to be coffee fueled for this epic day. Because I don't like it. It's sort of gross.
The Goddamn Mayonnaise Jar
1 day ago