Saturday, 9 July 2011

179: The Source of My Excitement

CAUTION: Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.


I haven't had any coffee for five days.

I've had some caffeine, admittedly, but not a lot. Basically a can of Diet Pepsi at lunchtime and that's been it. It's been in a vain*1 bid to improve the condition of my skin. It's not like I'm The Singing Detective or anything, but as I've previously noticed, it's caffeine that gives me spots etc, despite being in my late thirties. As I've also previously noticed, caffeine is quite difficult to give up if you use it to be 'on fire' at work*2. I enjoy being on fire at work, as it makes other people in the office look a bit shit by comparison.

So, as coincidence would have it, my jar of Douwe Egberts ran out last Friday, and I thought I'd give a caffeine-free environment a go. I can't drink that shit from the machine in the canteen, largely because it's not coffee*3, so there'd be no temptation to get pumped on a slow morning. So in place of the coffee? Water. That's got to do me some good, right? I mean sure, I'll be at the toilet every twenty minutes *4, but that's the H2O doing its thing. It's all good, yeah?


Apparently not. After five days of drinking a moderate to large amount of water, I'm far more intimately acquainted with the office-toilets, and I have the skin-tone of a fucking fourteen year old. It's actually worse than it was last weekend. The lack of supplementary energy has also resulted in me spending Monday to Wednesday having the reaction-time and general sluggishness of a teenager, too. There's only one thing for it. Abstinence can fuck right off.


I'm having my first coffee for five days.

And, in a follow-up to my previous post on coffee, I've popped my Starbucks cherry.

Me. Drinking Starbucks.

In the same situation as before, I found myself at St. Pancras International, with twenty five minutes to kill before my train. It had been a long day so far, and I'd already come to the conclusion that the lack of caffeine was doing me no good. Now would be a good time to break this ridiculous charade. Looking at the Departures board, I could see the faux-quaint, ethically conscious Sourced beneath, with three or four people queued up (a slight number given the busy rush hour people-traffic). Behind me, the multinational behemoth that is Starbucks, with a queue of folks snaking back and outside their premises. Which one should I go for?

Well, remembering how long it took me to get served last time, I went to Starbucks. It was pretty much exactly how I like my retail transactions to be. I give them money, they give me stuff, no-one gives each other shit. Lovely. £2.40 has got me a Fucking Massive*5 Americano with an extra shot, and I can't tell which is going faster: this train, or my brain. Parts of my psyche are waking up like Ash at the end of Army of Darkness, and wondering exactly how long I've been asleep.

You remember that bit in 1978's Superman where he's discovering his powers and ends up running alongside that train? That'll be me when I get this finished, mind.

You can tell I'm back on the coffee, I've made three screen-references in one blogpost. This week's Star Wars A-Z post will be up on Sunday or Monday, by the way. I've got to put together a video for it, and between having a busy week and no fucking energy, I haven't been able to get round to it. Sorry, like. Although I doubt you were on the edge of your seat for it anyway ;)

Going to go and read comics, now. Ciao.

*1 vain, in every sense of the word, apparently.
*2 Not literally "on fire". Obviously.
*3 It's brown, hot and comes out of a coffee machine. The similarity ends there.
*4 And I was. Every twenty bastard minutes.
*5 That's right, fact-fans. 'Venti' is Italian for 'Fucking massive'.

• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.

• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.

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