Coffee is a wonderful thing. It wakes you up. It increases your energy. It tastes delicious. It is, in the immortal words of my friend Jason, whom I used to work with many years ago in Toronto, "sweet elixir of life*."
It makes 5 a.m. seem a little bit sunnier, a little more bearable. I usually drink three cups between the time I get up and the time I arrive at work. (Thanks for the travel cup, Mum!)
I found out yesterday, however, just how important coffee is. I found out that unbeknownst to me, it is a big part of what makes me me -- part of the essential core of my being and what defines me as a person. At least according to Rachel.
We were driving home from daycare yesterday evening and she was telling me all about a project that she's doing at school. She said that each student in the class had to pick a 'character' from their family and describe them. (Great, my eight-year-old thinks I'm a character.) They had to list four things about their character that described them.
Here are the words and phrases that Rae feels describe me best:
- dirty blonde
- nice
- generous
- three cups of coffee
And really, I should be grateful that the last bullet point she chose wasn't 'three glasses of merlot.'
*from the opening line of a poem Jason wrote me about coffee on a sheet of lined paper in bright green ink. I still have it somewhere. I miss him. We once went Christmas shopping together at the Eaton Centre inebriated (on public transportation, of course), and someday I really must tell you about Jason and the birth control pills, it's a good story.